


Family Doesn't Break

by escapethroughreading



Series: Family Don't Break Series [1]
Category: Newsies, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/M, Newsies - Freeform, i'm working on a sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 38
Words: 28,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28483392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escapethroughreading/pseuds/escapethroughreading
Summary: When Jack and Alex meet by accident, the two of them start to grow closer. But when tragedy strikes, can the two of them recover?
Relationships: Jack x oc
Series: Family Don't Break Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086401
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. A/N

Hey everybody! Thanks so much for choosing to read this. Just a quick thing about this story: In this one, Katharine and Jack never got together. Also, Race and Spot are a couple. Hope you enjoy the story!


	2. Chapter

JACK’S POV:

“Ms. Medda!” I call out. My voice echoes throughout the empty theatre. The seats are empty, the bottoms folded up. The work lights are on and illuminating the stage. A flat piece of white canvas is splayed out, weighed down by four bricks. “Ms. Medda?” I call out again.

“Jack! Hello, dear. Sorry, I couldn’t hear you, I was in the back with my new worker.” She walks out, her dress swishing around her ankles. The fabric is hot pink, bright and eye catching as usual. “New worker?” I walk over to her, giving her a quick hug. 

“Yes, Alex, my new seamstress. Ever since Elena quit last month, I haven’t been able to catch up with all the costuming. Can’t sew like I used to, old fingers and all.” she chuckles and flexes her fingers for emphasis. “I would offa’ to help, but I can’t sew at all.” I know this is true because the last time I tried to sew, I lost about a pint of blood. Those needles are sharper than they look.

“Well Jack, I was hoping that you could use your painting talents to make me a forest backdrop. We’re doing a fairytale themed show. It’s going to be amazing!” Medda smiles, clapping her hands in excitement. “Sure. I’ll get started.”

Medda heads to her office and I grab the paints from the closet. The cans are dented and rusty, dried paint covering the sides. I choose a couple shades of green and some browns. I carry them down from the catwalk one by one. 

I walk up one last time, grabbing the last paint can. I walk out over the catwalk, the metal slightly shaking. Then my shoe catches on something, and I’m falling. I hit the walk with a thud, all the air being knocked out of me. 

“OW! WHAT THE FUCK?” I stand up fast, peeking over the edge of the catwalk. A paint covered figure stands below, green dripping down onto the floor. A giant splatter of paint covers the stage. I grab my hat and run down the stairs, panic racing through me. I rush over to the person, carefully avoiding the mess. 

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” the figure turns to face me. They bring their hands up to their face and wipe off some of the paint, revealing white skin and bright green eyes. I can’t see much of their clothes, due to the thick layer of green covering them. “I tripped, and I didn’t mean to drop the paint, and I am so sorry-” 

“It’s fine. Can you just grab me a towel or something? Please?” I nod and run off, searching for a rag. I grab a small towel from the storage closet, bringing it back. I hand it to the person, my shoes squelching in the paint.

The figure wipes off a good amount of the green, revealing a tan colored newsboy hat, a pair of black pants, a light red shirt, and a dark brown vest. “Perfect. Just perfect.” he sighs, staring down at his stained clothing. 

“Oh dear! What happened?” Medda comes running out from stage left, a worried expression on her face. “I tripped and dropped some paint.” I explain, gesturing to the boy. “Alex, I’ll go grab you a change of clothes from the costume closet. I’ll be right back.” Medda rushes off again, her heels clacking against the floor.

“Well. Um. I guess you're the new seamstress Medda told me about. I’m Jack.” I give a small wave, a half hearted smile on my face. “Alex.” he sticks out his hand, and I shake it. I wipe the green paint off on my apron. 

Medda comes back with a pile of clothing. “Alex, come with me. We’ll get you all cleaned up. Jack, could you be a dear and mop this mess? We have rehearsal later tonight.” Medda leads Alex off the stage, chattering all the way. 

Way to make a good first impression.


	3. Chapter 2

ALEX’S POV:

I managed to get most of the paint off. My skin is still stained green in some places, but it’ll come off eventually. The pants Medda gave me are a bit too big, so I have to roll up the cuffs. The white shirt sleeves hang over my hands so I roll the sleeves up too. My paint covered clothes are stuffed into a cloth bag to be washed at home.

I allow my hair to fall down my back, frizzy from being tucked under my hat all day. I smooth it with my fingers but that doesn’t do much. I walk out of the dressing room and Medda comes over, a kind smile on her face. “That’s better now, isn’t it?” I nod, hoisting my bag over my shoulder.

“I need to finish sewing one of the bodices, but then I’ll be out of your hair for the night.” Medda tuts, telling me to stay as long as I want. I walk back out to the main stage, keeping an eye out for any more falling paint. 

Jack is just finishing his mopping, wet streaks covering the black stage. “Hey.” He looks up and his eyes widen. “Alex?” I nod my head, walking towards him. “I didn’t realize- you're a girl?” he sounds shocked, and he looks me up and down. “No shit, sherlock.” I chuckle. He takes off his hat, running his hand through his hair nervously. “Sorry about spilling paint on you. Not the first impression I was hoping to make.” 

“Don’t worry about it. It happens.” He smiles softly, his cheeks tinged a light pink. Without paint in my eyes, I see that he’s actually pretty handsome. His brown hair is messy. His eyes are blue and kind, a spark of mischief hidden behind them. He has on a plain white shirt, covered in paint. His smile is bright and wide.

“So, your Medda’s new seamstress?” I nod again. “Yeah, needed some extra money. Plus, I love the theatre, so I don’t mind working here.” 

It’s true, I do love theatres. They have a peaceful air to them, an energy that you can feel but not see. The art is everywhere, little stories hidden in each set piece and costume. Whole worlds are created here, worlds that you can escape to. It’s a safe place for me to go when I need to get away.

“Well, I have to go finish my sewing. I’ll see ya later, Jack.” I walk away, back towards the costume room. I can feel Jack’s eyes on me as I leave. I hope I see him again tomorrow.

JACK’S POV:

Alex is really pretty. She has long brown hair spilling over her shoulders, bright green eyes that seem to hold a million different colors. Her lips are light pink, curved up into a perfect smile. But more than that, it’s the way she walks and talks. She holds confidence, practically exudes it. 

She wears pants and shirts, dresses like a boy. I’ve never seen a girl do that before. She’s not timid, she had no problem swearing. It’s unusual for a girl. It’s cool. It’s something different, something new. It’s exciting.


	4. CHAPTER 3

ALEX’S POV:

This dress is being extremely finicky today. The fabric keeps scrunching up as I sew, causing me to have a slower pace. Plus, I keep poking myself with pins, forgetting where I put them. “Pins, pins…” I mutter, searching for my sewing kit. I locate it and pull out some silver pins, poking them through the fabric. 

I run the machine, the rhythmic humming almost calming. I push the fabric through, the silver needle flashing as it punches through the silk. My foot rests on the pedal, moving up and down as I vary the pace. The fabric is soft under my fingers, thin and colored black. 

I finish the piece and set it to the side. My fingers are sore, a blister forming on my middle finger from all the hand sewing. I could use a break. Give my poor hands some time to recover. And I can go see if Jack is here, maybe say hello.

I leave the costume room and my eyes adjust to the darkness of the theatre. I walk out to the main stage and I see Jack sitting on the ground, a paintbrush in his hand. I can see the top of the backdrop starting to appear, tree tops shielding the sky. 

The trees are detailed, each leaf outlined and shadowed. It looks real. I can almost see the leaves shaking in the wind. “That’s really good.” Jack whirls around, relaxing once he sees that it’s just me. “Hi, Alex.” I smile and wave, walking over. I study the painting, taking in each beautiful detail. “This should be in a museum. You have a real gift for this.” Jack blushes and shrugs his shoulders. “It’s alright.” I give him a friendly glare, shaking my head.

I sit down next to him, crossing my legs. I silently watch him paint. He does it gracefully, his hand moving slowly and with precision. Each brush stroke is deliberate, a small detail that no one else would see unless they really looked.

He makes one last brush stroke. He places the brush handle in his mouth, hesitating a moment. “It’s good enough for today.” he states. He shifts so he’s facing me, leaning back on his hands. “So, are you still mad at me for spilling paint on you?” he asks with a smirk. “Maybe. But I know how you can make it up to me.” 

He raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue. “Why don’t you buy me a soda, then we can call it even.” he looks surprised for a moment before covering it up with a confident grin. “Sure. Why don’t we go right now?” he says it as if it’s a challenge, testing if I was serious. “Let’s go.” I clamber up, dusting off my pants. I adjust my hat and pull my hair back into a neat ponytail. 

We walk to the soda shop around the corner. Jack buys each of us a coke and we sit on the corner outside, watching people go by. “How’d you know Medda?” Jack asks. “I auditioned for one of her shows a couple of months ago. When she asked around for a new seamstress I volunteered. The money isn’t great but it's the best job I can get right now.”

“Makes sense. Ya gotta have money to get a job, but ya can’t get money without one.” Jack takes a sip of his soda, setting the glass bottle down on the sidewalk. “If I could get a good job, the first thing I’d do is to buy a nice house. Somewhere quiet, uncrowded.” Jack considers for a moment before saying “I would move to Santa Fe. Get a good job, make enough money to buy some new shoes.” He looks pointedly down at his worn leather shoes.

“Okay. If you had a million dollars, what would you do with it?” I ask, turning towards him. “Hm. I would do what I just said. But I would get a nice big house with room for all the newsies. I’d make sure we have giant meals every day, and we’d have real beds to sleep on. I would get them all nice clothes, send them to school. Get Crutchie a better crutch.” 

He sighs mournfully, biting his lip. “You seem like you really care about these boys.” Jack nods. “They’re like brothers to me.” 

“I’ll have to come meet them one day.” Jack smiles. “Ya should. They’d like you.” I blush a bit, tucking my hair behind my ear. “You shouldn’t be so sure. I tend to throw people off,” I say honestly. “I don’t take any shit. I won’t hesitate to get in a fist fight. People don’t like that in a girl, say it’s ‘unladylike’ of me.”

Jack cocks his head, considering what I’ve just said. “Eh. I say screw that.” 

“I agree. A toast to screwing what people say.” we clink our sodas. We sit there on that sidewalk, sipping our drinks, as the world goes by. It feels like time has stopped. And to be honest I don’t want it to start again.


	5. Chapter 4

JACK’S POV:

It’s become a tradition to go get a soda and sit on that corner after working at the theatre. We always walk over together, hand in hand. Sometimes I pay, sometimes Alex pays. We sit and talk until the sun starts to set and Alex has to head home. I’ve offered to walk her, but she says she’ll be fine on the bus. Weeks pass, the same date every time. We haven’t even kissed yet, and honestly I don’t mind.

Usually I’m the type of guy who moves fast, and I’m not ashamed of it. But with Alex, I want to take it slow. I enjoy her company, just being by her side. I don’t feel like I have to put on a facade, act all tough, turn on the charm. With her I’m just plain old Jack. And surprisingly, she doesn’t seem to mind.

“Jack!” I’m startled from my thoughts by Alex yelling for me from the costume room. “Coming,” I shout back. I walk over and see her jumping to reach a box on a high shelf. “I can’t reach it. Can you get it?” she asks. “Sure thing, Al.” I reach up and grab it, pulling it down and handing it to her. “Al? I thought I told you to stop calling me that.” she says with a smirk. “Aw, you know you like it. Trust me, it’ll grow on you.” 

“Oh, while you’re here, I wanted to ask. My mom was hoping you could come over for dinner tonight, she’s making soup.” Oh. Oh no. She wants me to meet her parents. That’s not ideal. Parents don’t like me. Ever. At all. As if she can read my mind, she says “They’re not mean. They won’t throw you out a window or poison your food or anything, I promise.” she chuckles.

I take a deep breath. I really like Alex, and that means taking a risk and meeting her parents. “I’d love to come.”

**************

The bus pulls up, the metal screeching as it stops. Alex and I pop our coins into the slot and climb on, squishing in between people. The bus is overcrowded, with people in every available space. People chatter, the noise almost too loud. The doors close and the bus starts to move with a jerky motion, causing Alex to fall into me. I catch her and lightly push her back up, holding her arms while she gets her balance.

“Sorry.” she chuckles, dusting herself off. “Heh. Don’t worry about it.” The bus bumps as it goes over the cobblestone road, making everyone inside jerk about like rag dolls. “How do you do this every day without getting sick?” I mutter. Alex shrugs, saying that she’s just used to it. 

After a few more minutes, we get off among the flood of people entering. “This way.” Alex leads me down a quiet street, the lamp lights flickering in the dark. As we get farther into her neighborhood, it starts to get seedier and seedier. We pass multiple bars, drunk people sitting against the building, bottles in hand. 

“Hey! Girlie! How much for a kiss?” one of the men calls out. “Piss off, Eric. Go home, your wife will be looking for ya.” Alex shouts back. “You know that guy?” I ask. She nods. “He lives in the same tenement as us, two floors below. Well, his wife lives there. He’s pretty much always at the bar.”

Eventually we get to her tenement, a large brick building with windows every couple feet. Lines of washing hang out of some of them, pots and pans sit on the sills of others. I can hear people yelling from inside the building, children crying. “We’re right up here. C’mon, this way’s faster.” she jumps and pulls down a rusty fire escape ladder. It slams into the ground with a bang, the whole escape shaking.

She begins her climb and I follow behind her. We reach a window and she pushes it open, climbing through. It drops us out into a small room. An oven sits against one wall, a furnace pushed up against it. A sink full of dishes is across from it, a wooden cabinet above it. Some drawings and photos are framed on the walls. 

“Mama! We’re home!” Alex calls out. A short woman comes out of one of the rooms, an apron tied around her waist. “Alex! And you must be Jack. I’m Rachel.” she has a warm smile, the crows feet on the edges of her eyes crinkling as she grins. Her graying hair is tied back in a loose bun, her hair frizzing out behind her. She has a faint accent but from where I can’t quite tell.

I stick out my hand for her to shake, but she wraps me in a hug instead. I tense up in surprise, but hug her back. She pulls away, going over to kiss Alex’s cheek. “Come, come, sit. The soup is almost ready.” I take a seat at the wooden table, nervously bouncing my knee beneath it. Alex sits next to me, giving me a comforting smile. “They don’t bite, I promise.” she whispers. 

“David! Komm essen, mach eine. Pause von deiner Arbeit!” Rachel calls out. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” a male voice shouts back. A stout man enters the room, a brown vest covering his shirt. His lower face is covered with a bushy gray beard, a pair of wire glasses perched on the edge of his nose.

He takes a seat across from me, pulling his chair in. “You must be Jack.” his accent is thick, decidedly german. “Yes. Nice to meet you.” I stick out my hand and he shakes it. His palm is rough and calloused. 

Rachel brings over some steaming bowls of soup, placing them in front of us. She gives us spoons and napkins before taking a seat next to David. “How was work, Alex?” she asks. “Good. I finally finished the stitching on that shirt I told you about. I used the stitching you taught me.” Alex says proudly. 

“Alex tells us that you paint the sets,” David continues. “Yeah, I try to do it after I finish selling all my papes.” I explain. “Ah, you’re one of the newsboys! I used to do that when I first got here from Germany, it was a good way to make money. It’s actually how I met Rachel.” He smiles at his wife, softly squeezing her hand.

“He was delivering on my corner, and I accidentally bumped into him on my rush to get to the factory. Knocked him flat on his tuchus.” she chuckles. “ I hear this story all the time.” Alex says quietly, smirking. “Oh, but it’s so romantic! We met by accident, quite literally,” Rachel adds. 

As I sit here with Alex and her parents, I feel a strange sense of comfort. I don’t feel nervous. I feel like me. I laugh with them, trade stories. The conversation flows easily, without awkward pauses or stops. I don’t know why I was so worried about meeting them.


	6. Chapter 5

ALEX’S POV:

“Thank you for coming tonight.” I say. “I had fun. Your parents are nice.” I smirk. “I told you so.” Jack rolls his eyes, but he can’t fight the smile that appears on his face. “My mom wants you to come back for dinner again. I think she’s more smitten with you than I am.” Jack blushes, running a hand through his hair. 

We stand facing each other, illuminated by the street lamps. The stars overhead are hidden by the New York smog, the sky a never ending black pit. The streets are quiet for once, the world taking a short break. It feels like it’s just the two of us.

Time slows to a stop. I stare into his dark brown eyes, and it seems like he has a galaxy inside of them. “Alex-” his voice is soft, uncertain. 

And then he’s kissing me. Electricity surges through my veins, my heart beating faster than it ever has before. Behind my closed eyelids, I see a myriad of colors, moving and beating in time with my heart. 

When we finally pull away, we’re both breathing hard. “I-I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jack stutters out. “Okay. Goodnight, Jack.” He waves and walks away, still facing me. He stumbles back a bit, catching his balance. I put a hand to my mouth to try and hide my laughter. He’s grinning like a mad man, his cheeks rosy.

He finally turns around and begins to leave. I go back inside, and I peek out the window. I see him standing on the corner pumping his fist. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but he seems excited. He’s such a dork. But he’s a cute dork, I’ll give him that.


	7. Chapter 6

JACK’S POV:

“Jack, I need your help with something.” Davey shouts. “Coming, I’m coming.” I sigh. I climb down from the roof and into the building, walking to where Davey is standing in the middle of the room. He’s holding Spot and Race apart, both of them glaring at each other. “What’s goin’ on?” Davey raises an eyebrow, eyes moving between the two boys.

“Spot says that clam chowder is disgusting and tomato soup is the best soup.” Race says, shooting an accusatory look at Spot. “Well I’m right! Clam chowder isn’t good!” Spot argues back. “Well, tomato soup is just a hot smoothie. I said what I said.” Spot gasps, putting a hand up to his chest. “You take that back.” he hisses. “Make me.” 

“Tell them to stop fighting. I’ve been trying to stop it for ten minutes and all I’ve achieved is a burst eardrum,” Davey looks at me with pleading eyes. “Alright. Race, Spot, sit down. Davey, you referee.” Davey shakes his head no, but I ignore him. 

Spot and Race take a seat across from each other on the floor. “Okay. Someone tell me how this argument started.” I say. “Well, Race was talking about how he was craving clam chowder. I, as the good boyfriend I am, tried to gently help him realize that clam chowder is a monstrous creation.” Spot explains.

“Gently? You called me a bitch and then went on a rant about how clam chowder is the devil’s soup!” I massage my forehead. I’m somewhere between amusement and pity. “Let’s talk this out calmly. Race, did what Spot said hurt you?” Davey asks. “Of course it did! He insulted my favorite soup, which is like insulting my mother.” 

“You don’t have a mother!” Spot argues. Before Race can rebuff this, Davey holds up a hand. “Spot, did what Race said anger you?” Spot nods. “He called tomato soup a hot smoothie. I’m pretty sure that would anger anyone.” I have to agree with Spot on this one. Calling tomato soup a hot smoothie is just plain wrong.

“You both caused each other pain. I’d like for you both to apologize and hug it out.” Davey orders. “I’m not apologizing! I’m right!” Race shouts. “Well, if he’s not apologizing I’m not apologizing either!” Davey looks at me hopelessly, silently asking for help. “Hey! Stop! If you two don’t apologize to each other, I’m volunteering you both for cleaning duty for a week.” I cross my arms, staring them down. 

Both boys stare at each other, glaring. “Fine. Spot, I’m sorry.” Race says. “And Race, I’m sorry too.” Davey waits a beat. “Hug it out.” They start to argue, but Davey shakes his head. “Hug. It. Out.” The boys roll their eyes, but they stand up and hug each other. “Better?” I ask. “Maybe.” Race mumbles. Him and Spot are holding hands, a sign that the fight is pretty much over.

“We done? Because I need to get to work at the theatre.” Davey smirks. “You mean you have to go see your girlfriend.” he says in a sing-song voice. “No, I actually have work to do. I might just happen to see Alex while I’m there.” Davey stands up, pointing a finger at me. “So you admit it! You two are dating!” I shrug my shoulders. “Maybe.” I mutter. 

“Albert! You owe me a quarter!” Race shouts out. “I told him they were dating.” he says with a self satisfied smile. “Okay. Well, I’m leaving this mess. Spot, make sure that Race doesn’t spend his quarter on something stupid. Davey, make sure Spot makes sure that Race doesn’t spend his quarter on something stupid.” I wave and walk out, shaking my head. I love these guys, but they sure can be idiots sometimes.


	8. Chapter 7

ALEX’S POV:

“You ready to meet the newsies?” Jack asks. I nod, taking a deep breath. “You promise they won’t eat me alive?” I joke. “Probably not.” I can’t tell if he’s joking. He holds open the door and I walk through.

The room is the definition of chaos. Boys are running and screaming. A boy runs into me, and I stumble back. “Sorry, J- wait a second. I don’t know you.” he studies me for a second, trying to figure out who I am. Jack comes in behind me, and I see his eyes go wide. 

A blonde boy with a cigar in his mouth runs by, missing his pants. An older boy in a blue and white checkered shirt chases after him, pants in hand. “Race! Put your pants on!” he shouts. “Make me!” the boy calls out. I stand there, taking in the pure craziness of the room.

“Guys! Guys! Pants on, we have a guest!” Jack yells. The room goes silent and everyone stops moving, turning to face him like a herd of meerkats. Their eyes shift from Jack to me and brows furrow as they start to realize that I’m a stranger. “Everybody, this is my girlfriend, Alex.” I give a small wave and smile. “How’d you bag a girl like her? She’s way outta your league!” 

“Oh, shut up Finch.” Jack says, playfully glaring at him. “Hi. I’m Romeo. What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” The guy is short and he stands with a hand on his hip. He has a flirty expression on his face. “Back off, Romeo. She’s mine. Also you live here too, so you just insulted your own house.” Jack argues. Romeo rolls his eyes overdramatically and moves back into the crowd of boys.

“Let me introduce you to everyone. That’s Tommy Boy, Racetrack, Elmer, Mike, Ike, Buttons, Specs, Les, you just met Romeo, Smalls, Albert, Jojo, Mush, Henry, Finch, Spot, Crutchie, and Davey.” 

“Nice to meet you all.” Jack leads me over to a worn wooden chair, one of the legs cracked and haphazardly reattached. I gently sit down on it, worried that the leg will snap off. The boys gather around and look at me with expectant faces. “Come play cards with us! Winner gets to avoid Davey’s mom glare for a day.” Ike says. “I don’t ‘mom glare’.” Davey argues, glaring. “You’re literally doing it right now.” Jojo points out. Davey drops his glare, straightening his shirt. “I don’t mom glare.” he mumbles.

I sit down in the circle. Smalls shuffles and deals the cards. The cards are bent and dusty, the colors faded. I sweep the boys in poker, but Crutchie beats us all in bluff. That kid is a great liar, which is very disconcerting. He looks completely innocent the whole time. 

While we play, we chat. I feel really comfortable around these boys. I don’t have many friends in general, but the majority of my friends are boys. Mothers don’t like me hanging out with their daughters. They think that I’ll corrupt them, turn them into feminists who wear boys clothes. Which I probably would, to be fair. Boys don’t seem to care about all that stuff. They treat me like an equal, which is nice.

I get along great with the boys, and I lose track of time. When I finally look at a clock, it’s almost ten. It’s dark out and the buses have stopped running. “Shit! I have to call my parents, they’ll be worried.” Jack walks me to the phone box down the street. My parents pick up on the first ring. I explain to my mom where I am and who I’m with. 

“It’s too late to walk home. See if you can stay with Jack for the night? I don’t want you walking home alone.” My mom says. I turn to Jack, covering the mouthpiece of the phone with my hand. “Do you mind if I stay here for the night? It’s too late to walk home.” Jack nods his head yes. “Sure. It’s not very comfy here though,”

After I hang up the phone, Jack and I walk back to the building. We climb up the fire escape to the roof. He helps me up and continues holding my hand even after I’ve gotten off the ladder. We sit on the edge of the roof together, staring up at the sky. The smog is thinner up here, and I can just barely see the stars twinkling in the sky. The moon shines bright above us, a glowing crescent.

“The boys really like you.” Jack says. “I’m glad. I like hanging out with them too.” Jack smiles gently at me. We sit on that roof and talk, watching the moon fall below the buildings. Once it starts getting too late, we grab a blanket and lay down. I fall asleep wrapped in Jack’s arms, the night sky watching over us.


	9. Chapter 8

JACK’S POV:

The show opens in a week. I’ve finished painting the set, so now I’m just doing touch ups and adding final details. I haven’t been able to watch any of the rehearsals, but I do know that Alex is doing a short solo for the show. She won’t tell me what the song is or sing it for me. She says she’s embarrassed. She didn’t even want to perform, but Medda kept bugging her until she said yes. Medda is good at that type of thing. I didn’t want to paint the sets, but look at me now.

“Jack! C’mere, I need you for a sec!” Alex shouts. “Coming!” I stand up and walk over to the costume room. When I enter, I almost trip on a pile of red fabric. The table is covered in different costume pieces and textiles, draped over every empty space. Alex looks flustered, her hair tied back in a loose bun held in place by a pencil. 

“Trevor tore his costume, so I had to make a new one. I won’t be able to get him fitted for it before opening. He’s about your size, try it on.” Alex orders. She hands me a pile of clothes, messily folded. “Do I get a say?” I joke. “Nope. Go to the dressing room and get ‘em on. I need to see if they work.” I smirk. I won’t lie, I don’t mind when she gets bossy. 

I go to the dressing room and pull on the costume. The white jacket is snug, held shut by a series of fancy golden buttons. Fringed golden things sit on my shoulders. Along with the white slacks, I can guess that this is a prince costume. 

I return to the costume shop. I stand in front of Alex, self consciously adjusting my clothes. She studies me for a second and pulls on the shoulder piece to straighten it. “Perfect. And, to be honest, this looks much better on you than it does on Trevor.” 

“I’m your prince charming.” I joke. “Of course you are, whether you're in this get up or not.” she says, giving me a quick kiss on the lips. “Well, I do need a princess.” I chuckle. “I think it’s only fair that you try on a costume too.” Alex rolls her eyes. “Fine. But you can’t laugh at me.” I cross my heart, promising not to. She grabs a pile of pink fabric and runs out, going to the dressing room.

She comes back a few minutes later in a pink dress. The dress is a ballgown style, with a large pink skirt on top of a hoop skirt. The top is carefully stitched with tiny silver beads, forming a flowing pattern. The sleeves hug her arms, the bottoms just barely touching her palms. Her hair has come loose from her bun, falling in faint messy curls down her back. Her green eyes contrast the pink in the best possible way, shining against the fabric. She looks like a true princess.

“Wow.” I say softly. “You promised not to laugh.” she says, playfully glaring at me. I step closer to her. “You look beautiful.” she blushes, her cheeks becoming the same shade as the dress. “Shut up.” she says quietly. She turns her away, a small smile on her face. “Did you sew all this yourself?” 

“Yeah. I used some costumes we already had and did some repairs and added the beading.” My fingers gingerly move over the beads, the small stones rough under my touch. “That’s amazing.” Alex shrugs, biting her lip. 

“May I have this dance, m’lady?” I ask. “Of course.” she holds out her hand and I grab it, pulling her in close. We slowly waltz around the room. I dip her and she laughs her beautiful laugh, the one that never fails to make me smile. 

She lays her head on my chest as we slowly dance. Though there is no music playing, it doesn’t seem to matter. We sway to the rhythm of our heart beats, the melody set to our breaths. Everything is perfect right now. The world has stopped spinning. It’s just us two in this tiny room, surrounded by fabrics, dancing to a music that no one else can hear.


	10. Chapter 9

ALEX’S POV:

Today’s the day. I have to actually sing in front of people. I’m fine with acting in front of them, but singing is a whole different matter. It’s more terrifying than having to deliver a whole Shakespeare monologue in a british accent in front of an audience of three hundred people.

My costume is beautiful, but I feel so awkward in it. I don’t like wearing dresses. I can’t run or fight in them, I’m stuck in place surrounded by overly shiny fabric. “You ready, Alex?” Medda whispers. I nod, swallowing the knot in my throat. “You're going to do great out there. Break a leg!” Medda gives me a quick hug before running off to deal with other people. 

I countdown the seconds to my entrance. The last line of the scene is delivered. The actors exit. And now it’s my turn. The stage is dark, the audience silent. I take a deep breath, and I walk out onto the stage.

JACK’S POV:

Alex walks on, and the spotlight finds her. She stands center stage, her arms at her side. She has a flowing white dress, the sleeves draping towards the ground. Her hair is loose behind her, natural and flowing. She looks like a goddess.

The piano begins to play, the music echoing around the theatre. Then Alex begins to sing. Her voice is like silk, soft and airy yet still full of passion. The notes ring out, like gems you can almost see. The audience is quiet, eyes and mouths open in awe. She sings like an angel, like some holy supernatural being. 

I can almost see the music, the way it winds around her like a cloak. The backdrop behind her sparkles lightly, and the leaves almost seem to pull towards her, as eager as the rest of us to hear her better. She’s like a siren, drawing everyone in. The outside world no longer exists. It is just her, weaving her magic with her voice. 

She sings her last note, and it dances around the theatre, echoing off of every wall. There is a moment of silence, allowing the note to fully fade. And then there is thunderous applause. People stand up, clapping and cheering. Someone whistles. Alex bows, rushing offstage.

I don’t pay attention to the rest of the show. All I want to do is go and see Alex. I fidget, my seat shaking as I bounce my knee. As soon as the curtain closes, I stand up and maneuver my way through the crowd. I take a shortcut through the greenroom and go straight to backstage.

The actors are buzzing, all recounting the performance. I search for Alex, my eyes skimming the group. I finally see her standing off in a corner, talking to another girl. I practically run over to her. 

“Alex!” I call out. She turns toward me and smiles. “Hey, Jack.” her cheeks are flushed with excitement, red and rosy. “That was amazing.” I blurt out. “It was okay. I messed up on that high note-” I interrupt her. “No. It was seriously some of the best singing I have ever heard. You had the whole audience hypnotized.” she giggles and grabs my hand.

“Thank you for coming.” she says quietly. “Of course.” I lean down and kiss her, tasting the lipstick on her lips. “Hey! You two! No hanky panky in my theatre,” Ms. Medda chuckles. We break apart and turn towards her, still hand in hand. 

“Alex, my dear, you were wonderful. I do wish you would sing for us more often.” Alex thanks her and says that she’ll think about it. The cast is starting to get changed and heading out for a drink. “Do you wanna get out of here?” I ask. Alex nods. “Let’s go get a soda and celebrate.” she suggests. 

Once Alex changes, we leave together. We walk to our normal spot, buying a soda to share. And just like our first date, we sit on that corner together and talk. Nothing could be more perfect.


	11. Chapter 10

ALEX’S POV:

I hang out with the boys almost every day after work. Sometimes I stay the night if it gets too dark to walk home. They’ve kind of become like brothers to me in a way. Jack seems to lead the group, like some sort of father figure. Davey is the mother hen, always making sure that everyone has gotten enough to eat and is following the rules. Though a tad dysfunctional, their family is a family, no doubt about it.

Les is currently filling me in on his day. Apparently he saw a big dog, ate a sandwich with pickles, and sold all his papers. He’s a cute kid. 

“Nope! Nope! Shirts on! Get out here we need to have a talk!” Davey’s voice booms through the room. Everyone turns to look at him as he enters, Spot and Race following behind him. “Alright! Everyone, sit down.” Davey orders. “We’re already sitting-” Finch says, but Davey just rolls his eyes. “Okay. Time to lay some ground rules.” 

He stands in front of us, arms crossed. “First off. I know all of you are teenagers and capable of making your own decisions, but that doesn't mean that you get free range. Some people-” he glares at Spot and Race. “Make bad decisions. I know when you get in a relationship, you want to do things with the other person, but there are some limits in this household.” Specs points out that Davey doesn’t even live here, but Davey just ignores him.

“What’s he talking about?” Les loudly whispers to me. I debate how to answer him, but Davey just points to the door and orders Les to leave. Les complains, but Davey isn’t having any of it. Les leaves with a dramatic sigh, closing the door behind him. 

“Alright. Now that the young child is gone, we can start talking about this. First off: no doing the devil’s dance in this building. Do it elsewhere, but not here. And when you do it, use protection! That is very important. STDs are very serious, and I don’t want any unexpected babies. I’m not ready to be a grandfather.” 

Jack and I look at each other. I think about arguing with him, saying that he is not technically a parent to any of us, but decide against it. Davey’s on a roll, and who am I to stop him? “If you decide to make out, shirts stay on and the door stays open at all times. No debate. And don’t try to be sneaky, I’ll know. You are all terrible liars.”

“So you’re fine with us making out in front of you as long as the door is open?” Spot asks. Davey nods. “That would make you very uncomfortable.” Spot adds. “Nope. You guys basically radiate horny, I’m immune to it by now.” 

Davey continues on his tirade, giving us a overly-detailed sex ed lesson. Most of us don’t need this. Well, maybe except for Spot and Race. Those two are honry little goblins. Not the nicest way to say it, but absolutely true. They can’t keep their hands off each other.

“One last thing. All of you must promise me that you will never do the canoodle at my house. Spot, Race, you have already violated this agreement and I still have not forgiven you for that. You’re lucky my parents are very clueless.”

Albert elbows Race, a smirk on his face. “We didn’t even go all the way!” Race argues. “You went far enough.” Davey says with disdain. He shivers at the memory, then brushes it off. “That does it for my sex ed lesson. If you guys need protection, I happen to know that there is a box of condoms under Finch’s bed.”

“Hey!” Finch calls out. “Why’d you have them? It’s not like you ever need ‘em.” Jojo chuckles. “Well, at least I’ve used them more than you.” They are about to continue arguing, but Davey breaks it up, putting his hands in between them. “Any questions?” he asks. Mike raises his hand, and Davey calls on him. “Is it true that girls can hypnotize men when they are on their period?” Davey shakes his head no, but I interrupt him.

“That is absolutely true. Jack can testify to that.” Jack nods, going along with it. “I knew it!” 


	12. Chapter 11

JACK’S POV:

I hear someone thundering down the hall, and the windows shake. The building isn’t well built, but at least it keeps the heat in. Well, sort of, but it’s better than nothing. The door to the bunk room slams open, and I’m about to yell at Davey for denting the wall, but he looks like he has something more important to say. His cheeks are red and sweat is running down his forehead. He must have run all the way here from his house. 

“Jack. You have to come quickly. It’s Alex.” My heart immediately drops. I run after him, quickly putting on my jacket. The cold winter air of the city nips at me, but I ignore it. A thin layer of snow lays on the ground and I almost slip on the ice, but Davey catches me. I want to ask him what the hell he means when he says ‘it’s Alex’, but I’m too out of breath to do anything but run.

We finally stop running when we reach Alex’s building. The windows that were once open are now closed, frost on the sills. The colorful laundry is all inside, drying against the hearth. The main door to the tenement is locked so we speed up the fire escape. 

The window to Alex’s house is open and the cold air blows inside. The room is freezing and I can see my breath fan out in a puff of white smoke. I spot Alex sitting in a chair at the kitchen table, her head in her hands. She's wearing nothing but a dirty white shirt, the sleeves rolled up. The hearth is barely lit, the embers blinking in the dark light.

“Jesus, Alex. You trying to freeze?” I take off my jacket and wrap it around her shoulders. Her head lifts, and I see tears staining her cheeks. I’m surprised they aren’t frozen. “Jack.” she croaks out. She suddenly hugs me, the force of her almost knocking me over. I look questioningly at Davey. “She called my house, and told me to come get you. She didn’t tell me why.” he explains. I gently release Alex, kneeling down to be at her height. 

I cup her face, using my thumb to wipe away some of her tears. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I ask quietly. She takes a moment to console herself, leaning into my touch. “It’s my mom. She fainted, and my dad took her to the hospital, and he called me and said that she needs surgery. She’s really sick, Jack. We don’t have a choice, but the surgery is draining us of everything we have. We won’t even have enough for food.”

“What about your job with Medda? I’m sure that you can ask her for a raise, she’d understand.” Alex shakes her head no. “With the show over, there’s no job for me. Even if there was a job, I don’t think she has enough to pay me more.” I want to deny it, but I know it’s true. Everyone around here is strapped for cash.

“My only other option is the factory. Those places are hell on earth, I’ve heard the stories. I’ll be lucky if I escape with all my fingers.” I know what she’s talking about. The factories don’t just make textiles, they make scars. Long hours for little pay, it’s basically a workhouse. It’s the last ditch option. If she goes in there, she might not come out.

“Well, what about joining us as a newsie?” Davey blurts out. I had almost forgotten he was there. Alex looks between the two of us. “I hadn’t even thought about that,” she admits. I notice her shivering. “Let’s get you warmed up, then we can talk. Davey, can you close the window?” Davey nods and slams the window shut. Ice clatters off and falls to the street below. 

I throw some more wood into the furnace and bring the fire back to life. I hold my hands up to the heat, attempting to get some feeling back. I help Alex over and all three of us sit on the ground in front of the flames. 

“You got any booze?” I ask. Alex nods, pointing at the top shelf of the cabinet. I pull down a bottle of alcohol. I unscrew the cap and take a swig, handing it to Alex. She gulps some down, making a face at the taste. Davey does the same, coughing up a storm.

So we sit in front of that fire, drinking and talking about what to do. Winter rages outside, but for us, the outside world is forgotten. It’s just us three in this small room, kept warm by a small fire and a bottle of whiskey.


	13. Chapter 12

ALEX’S POV:

First day as a newsie. Not what I expected to be doing with my life, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I have my bag, still stained with green paint, a dime, and a bottle of water. Lucky for me, the snow took a break this week. It’s still cold, but at least it’s not snowing. 

“Jack!” he turns around, his face breaking into a smile once he sees me. I walk over to him and the crowd of boys, all who say their various versions of ‘hello’ and ‘good morning’. Jack studies my outfit, making sure I’m ready for a long day of work.

I have on a white button down, my brown vest, my leather shoes, and my newsboy cap. “Take your hair down. You’ll sell more as a girl I think.” Jack says. I untuck my hair from my hat and tie it back in a ponytail. He nods, giving me a thumbs up. “Okay. You and I are taking the East Village today. We just got to pick up our papes. Make sure to count ‘em, the Delancey’s are cheats.” all the boys agree, glaring at the two boys at the stand. “The old one is Wiesel. Pretty sure he hates everyone, including his wife.”

A bell rings and I move with the boys, getting into a line. Jack stands behind me and Jojo is in front, flipping his coin. The boys banter as they receive their papers, making fun of the Delancey brothers and Wiesel. Crutchie is the only one who’s at least a little respectful. 

When it’s my turn, I walk up and place my dime on the cash box. Wiesel stares at me for a couple of seconds, barely blinking. “You need to cut your hair, boy. It’s not suitable.” I raise an eyebrow. “Good thing I’m not a boy then.” The boys chuckle and Wiesel glares at me and crosses his arms. “This ain’t no job for a girl. Move along.” he orders.

“Hey. I paid my money, give me my papes.” I argue. “This is how spinsters start.” he grumbles. He gestures for me to move on to the Delancey’s. They elbow each other, whispering about what I can only assume is me. “You won’t last a day,” one of them laughs. I roll my eyes, holding out my hand for the papers. 

They don’t hand me my papers, but instead start to mock me. “Hey, Morris, I’ll bet ya a quarter that she doesn’t come back tomorrow.” 

“Your on, Oscar.” I feel anger rising in my gut. These idiots think that they can scare me off with cheap talk. “How about this. If I come back tomorrow and prove you wrong, I get to punch you both. Deal?” The boys look at each other. Morris crosses his arms, staring me down. “And what do we get if we win?” he asks. “You get to punch me.” fair is fair. Oscar shakes his head no. “I ain’t punching no girl.” 

“I guess even they have standards!” Race shouts. The line erupts in laughter, causing the Delancey’s to get even more annoyed. “Look, just give the gal her papes. She paid.” The Delancey’s look at Jack, and Oscar starts cracking his knuckles. “Don’t remember asking you.” he spits. “It don’t matter if you asked or not, you're harassing my girl. Give her the papes or I’m taking ‘em.” 

The Delancey’s smirk, looking between the two of us. “Your dating Jack Kelly? You must be real desperate.” The two of them chuckle, amused by their own joke. “Do we have a bet or not?” I shout. The crowd goes silent as they look at us. “We still haven’t settled on what we get if we win.” Oscar reminds me. “Though I think I have an idea.” Morris sneers. “Whatever it takes for you to give me my papes.” Morris leans down, his head close to mine. “If we win, one of us gets to take you on a date.” 

“Nope. No deal. She’s already got a boyfriend, she doesn’t need another-” I cut Jack off with a ‘don’t mess with me’ glare. “Deal.” Morris spits in his hand, holding it out for me to shake. I spit onto my palm and lock hands with him, making sure to squeeze his hand much harder than necessary. 

They hand me my papes and I move off to the side, Jack following after me. “Make sure to wear something more ladylike for our date!” Oscar shouts. I flip him off, turning my back to them. “Alex, what the hell did you just do?” Jack quietly yells. “I made a bet.” I say simply.

“That was a terrible idea! Those two are the definition of sleazy!” I roll my eyes. “I can make my own decisions Jack. You don’t control me. Plus, it’s worth the risk if I get to punch the two of them in their smug faces.” Jack runs his hand over his face, but he stops arguing. “You’re coming back tomorrow even if I have to drag you behind me.” 

“What, you don’t like the idea of me dating someone else?” I joke. “Nope. You’re my girl and my girl only, there ain’t nothing you can do about it.” he puts an arm around my shoulders, smiling down at me. “I wouldn’t want to be anyone else’s.” He leans down and kisses me, pulling away before our lips can freeze together. 

“Let’s get to work, the sooner we sell all the papes the sooner I can take you out for some coffee.” I nod, and we set off hand in hand. Hopefully I don’t completely screw up.


	14. Chapter 13

JACK’S POV:

Alex’s a natural at this. She sells almost as good as me, and this is her first day. “Man eaten by an alligator at the shipyard! Only covered here!” she shouts out. A man comes over and drops a few coins into her palm, taking a newspaper. “Can’t believe he actually bought that. Worst lie I’ve come up with yet!” she chuckles. 

I wave my newspaper, calling out. A woman comes over and buys two. I stick the coins in my pocket, the metal cold against my leg. “Papes for sale! Papes! Come get ya papes!” Alex’s voice attracts a rich woman in a fancy hat, a fur coat wrapped around her shoulders. She's about to hand Alex her money when she catches sight of her ponytail. She draws her hand back, a worried expression on her face.

“Dear lord, what are you doing out here selling newspapers? A young girl like you should be at home, not wearing these indecent clothes and masquerading as a newsboy.” her voice is shrill, the accent of an upper class lady clear in every word. 

“Well, I need the money, miss. There are certainly worse ways to get it.” She pointedly stares at the prostitute standing on the corner, a man slipping her a pile of bills. The lady huffs, brushing a lock of finely curled hair behind her ear. “At least wear some proper clothes. Have you no shame? You’ll never find a husband dressed like this.” 

“I doubt she’ll have any problem with that.” I walk over, crossing my arms. The lady hums discontentedly. “This is why we need the workhouses, to get vagrants like you two off the streets.” I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “I have a house and parents, you know. But unlike you, we don’t have the money to wear nice furs and spend all day drinking tea and playing bridge. So instead of looking down on us, maybe you should show us some respect. We certainly work harder than you do.” 

The lady puts a gloved hand to her mouth, her eyes widening. “Such disrespect! Girls like you turn into prostitutes too, it’s just a matter of time.” I clench my fists, ready to give her a black eye if I could. “Times are changing, miss. Women have more options now, whether you like it or not. I mean, by the time I’m your age, I might even be able to vote. You should come join us at the suffrage meetings, they’re every saturday at noon.” the lady wrinkles her nose at this. “Preposterous. You should learn your place, young lady.” with that, she stomps off. I look at Alex in awe. 

“That was amazing.” she shrugs, beginning to hawk her papers again. “Her generation is stuck in the past. Things are moving forward. You know what I’m talking about, you formed a union. You should understand it better than anybody.” 

“I never thought I would end up doing that. I almost didn’t. If it wasn’t for Katharine, none of it would have happened.”

“Katharine? Is that the reporter you told me about?” I nod. “I’d love to meet her sometime. She sounds swell.” Alex and Katharine would get on like a house on fire. These two have more in common than anybody else I know. If these two put their brains together, I bet they could find a way to solve world hunger and get world peace while they’re at it. 

“I’m surprised you two haven’t met yet. I would’ve thought you two would bump into each other at some point, considering how often you come hang out with us.” To be honest, the only reason they haven’t been introduced is probably the fact that Katharine has been busy with her job. She’s publishing an article or two a week, which is pretty impressive.

“Why don’t I invite her to join us for coffee?” I ask. “Sure. Just know that most girls don’t tend to like me.” 

“I’m sure she’ll love you. You two are going to be fast friends, I’m certain of it.”


	15. Chapter 14

ALEX’S POV:

The cafe is crowded. Everyone is trying to escape the cold. I can smell the coffee wafting through the air and I can hear the grinding of the coffee maker. “There she is. Katharine!” Jack shouts over the noise. I don’t know how he expects her to hear him. 

A girl turns around, waving at us. We weave through the crowd, trying to avoid knocking into any tables. We finally reach her and she stands up to greet us. “Jack! Long time no see!” She wraps Jack in a hug. She turns to me, a smile on her face.

She’s pretty. She has styled brown hair, light curls bouncing against her back. She has on a nice pink vest and a proper matching skirt, as well as a white blouse. She’s well dressed, showing she has money. She’s the definition of a lady. 

“You must be Alex! Jack has told me so much about you. He’s absolutely smitten.” She wraps me in a hug as well. I freeze for a moment in shock before hugging her back. We take our seats around the small table, our elbows almost touching. We order some coffee and begin to talk. At first it's kind of awkward, mainly formalities and small talk. But before I know it the two of us are talking non-stop.

“Race seriously ate a bar of soap? And not on a dare or anything?” Katharine nods. “His excuse was that it smelled good, so he thought it would taste good.” All three of us start laughing hysterically, earning a few stares from around the cafe. 

“So Jack said you're writing articles for the newspaper now?” I ask. “Yeah. I’m hoping for a promotion soon.” 

“That’s amazing. I actually had a woman give me a whole lecture today about how women should know their place, the only jobs are wife and mother. I told her times were changing.” I gently elbow Katharine and she chuckles. “I mean, have you seen the suffrage signs? It’s incredible!” Katharine’s eyes get this far away look in them as she recalls the memory. “Women being able to vote. Seems like something out of a fictional novel, but it’s really happening,” she continues.

“You should come with me to the suffrage meetings! We meet every saturday at noon, at the Lilac Ladies hat shop. Everyone there is very nice, and they’ll love you. I bet some of them have already read your articles.” Katharine thinks for a moment before agreeing to come. “I’d love to meet some more like minded women. You're the only other girl I’ve met who isn’t scandalized by my job.”

“Same with you. Women tend to dislike my, and I quote, ‘untasteful attire and manly attitude.’” That was said to me by the deli worker over on 6th. Not that his opinion matters much, considering the meat he sells is at least a week old.

“Personally, I would prefer to wear what you’re wearing. It’s so much easier to move around in. But if my father saw me in boys clothes, he would ground me for life.” 

“Your dad’s a jerk. Who cares what he thinks.” Jack chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “True. He is a terrible person. But I guess that’s how he got to where he is.” 

“Well, if you get somewhere by hurting others, what's the point? Money runs out, but friends don’t.” I state. 

“Agreed.” Katharine says, a smile on her face. I’m glad I met her. I think Jack was right, we’re going to be fast friends.


	16. Chapter 15

JACK’S POV:

“You ready for your second day?” I ask. “Yup. But I’m even more ready to punch the Delancey’s.” to emphasize, she cracks her knuckles. We join the crowd of boys waiting in line. They ask Alex how her first day is, and she tells them all about the rich lady and her meeting Katharine. They all laugh as she recounts how she got people to buy her papers by making up outlandish lies. It’s like she’s been working with us forever.

“Hey! Girlie! You back to apologize?” Oscar shouts out. His brother laughs, slapping him on the back. Alex makes her way to the front and I follow behind her. She has a flirty smile on her face and she bats her eyelashes. The boys come forward, pulled in by her charm. “Yeah. I guess I owe one of you a date.” they look at each other smugly. 

“A date with my fist.” she punches Oscar and he falls back, blood streaming down his face. She grabs Morris’s collar and pulls him down. “You’re an asshole.” with that, she punches him square in the face and he stumbles back, a bruise already forming on his jaw. The boys are all laughing and cheering and Alex has a proud look on her face. 

“That was… wow.” I say. I swear, this girl gets more and more amazing as I get to know her. “Take that, Delancy!” Albert shouts, mocking the two brothers. “You just got taken down by a girl!” Jojo yells, high fiving Romeo.Wiesel watches from a distance, frowning and shaking his head. The brothers stand up, wiping the blood from their mouths and noses. 

“Stupid bitch.” Oscar mutters. I walk forward, my fists clenched. “You aiming to get punched again, Delancey?” I growl. “Call my girlfriend a bitch again and I’ll make sure your mug looks uglier than it already does.” 

Alex pulls me back, preventing me from starting a fight with them. “I took you down once. I’ll take you down again. So be nice or I’ll sic Jack on you, and when he’s angry he’s one hell of a fighter. Understood?” she grabs her papes and stomps off with me in tow. 

“You better not start a fight with them, Jack. I can tell you want to.” 

“Of course I want to! They just insulted you,” I shout.

“I’ve been called worse. Plus, they’re not worth the effort. As satisfying as it is to sock ‘em, it’ll only end in trouble.” I know she’s right, but I really want to give those boys a black eye or two. It might even make them look better.

“C’mon, let’s get to sellin’. I promised Crutchie I would teach him how to sew. He’s planning to make some christmas gifts for you guys.” she grabs my hand, squeezing it once. We walk off together into the cold, papers in hand. Hopefully we’ll be able to get home before dark.

“So, how’s your mom?” I ask. “Better. She’s recovering from the surgery. It’ll be awhile until she can go back to work though. Dad’s been stuck at home taking care of her a lot since she can barely walk. He’s only been able to work a couple shifts a week.”

“That sounds hard. Tell her I say hi, will ya?” Alex nods, smiling at me. “She says that you should come over for hanukkah dinner. She said she’ll make some extra latkes.” 

“Sure. But I don’t know much about hanukkah an’ all.” I say abashedly. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. It’s not much about religion as it is about tradition for us. My parents came here to escape the pogroms. They make sure to keep the traditions they had back home. It’s one of the only things they have left from there.”

I take a moment to let that sink in. I knew her parents were immigrants, but I never really thought about why they came here. New York is full of immigrants, from all over the world. All escaping from one thing or another. They all want a better life for themselves and their families. You can hear so many different languages as you walk down the streets. You see so many different cultures and traditions, smell the food that they make. People who would never have met live right next to each other. In New York, it doesn’t really matter where you come from. Once you step foot onto New York soil, you’re a new yorker. 

New York is a land of opportunity, where everyone can get a fresh start. Hundreds of people arrive each day. Each boat brings more stories, more culture, more traditions. It’s a wonderful, wonderful thing.


	17. Chapter 16

ALEX’S POV:

The house smells like candle wax and latkes, the fresh scent of bread flowing out of the oven. Candles are lit, the hearth hot and warming the room. It feels magical. My mother is standing in front of the oven, balanced on her crutches. A thick white cast covers her leg, causing her to lean to one side. She flips the latkes in the pan and the oil sizzles, some jumping into the air.

“Alex, can you open the window for me? I need to get some of these fumes out.” I nod and walk over, pushing the window open a bit. Cold air flows through, making me shiver. “Alex!” I look down and see Jack waving from below. “Hold on, I’ll come let you in!” I shout. I run out the door and down the stairs, startling a young woman holding a bucket of water. 

I throw open the door and walk out. Jack is standing there in a nice white shirt, his vest clearly washed. “Hey,” he says nervously. He pulls off his hat and runs a hand through his hair, messing up the careful part. “I hope I look okay, I borrowed a shirt from Davey and he said I should brush my hair and-”

“You look perfect.” I give him a quick kiss and grab his hand, pulling him up the stairs. I hold the door open for him and he enters. I follow behind him. “Jack, my dear! So good to see you!” my mother coos, limping over. “How are you, Miss Rachel?” 

“I’m wonderful. And please, call me Rachel.” She smiles and takes a seat at the table. “David, can you serve the latkes please? And the challah is still in the oven, Alex can grab that.” We do as she says, serving up the different dishes. I place the challah on the special china plate we have for it, decorated with flowers and words in yiddish. The latkes sit on a silver tray, still steaming. A plate of fish sits off to the side and the bowl next to it holds some soup.

Jack and I take our seats at the table and my mom immediately starts filling our plates. Jack tries some of the challah and sighs in delight. “This is delicious,” he says. My mom thanks him, enjoying the praise.

My parents tell stories as the dinner continues. I’ve heard them all a million times, but I love them nevertheless. “When I was a girl, we lived in a shtetl. Everyone there was like family, we knew everyone’s business. I remember the weddings, we would get together and have the most fantastic party. I still remember the energy and the dancing, the food and the singing.”

Jack listens, his eyes wide. My parents paint a picture of what their homes looked like, tell tales of their escapades and adventures.They choose to leave out the bad. Now is a time for laughter and joy, not sadness and grief. That will come another time. 

Once dinner is over, my father brings out the sufganiyot. The powdered sugar gets everywhere, a white dusting of sweet snow. The jelly is still warm inside the dough and the sugar sticks to my tongue. I love sufganiyot. It’s one of my favorite treats.

Once the sun has finally set, it’s time to light the menorah. We gather around the table and my father positions the candles. “Would you like to do the honors?” He hands the matches to Jack. Jack lights the leader candle, the flame dancing on the wick. Then I slowly light every other candle. Jack does his best to follow as we sing. Our voices are not on tune or together, but it is beautiful nonetheless.  _ “aruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha'olam, asher kid'shanu b'mitzvotav v'tsivanu l'hadlik ner shel Hanukkah.”  _

The candles reflect in the window, a duplicate set of melting wax and flame. My parents hand me a small gift wrapped in brown butcher paper. I unwrap it neatly, taking care not to rip the fabric. Inside is a book. It’s not new, but that makes it all the more beautiful. The fabric cover is worn, the white letters dirtied. The pages are dog eared and the spine is frayed. “Thank you. It’s perfect.” I hug it to my chest and inhale the scent of old paper.

I place it down and reach into my pocket, pulling out a little cardboard box. “I know you don’t celebrate hanukkah, but I got you something anyway.” I hand it to Jack and he opens it, pulling out the brand new set of charcoal pencils. “Thank you.” his voice is breathless, his hands gently cupping them. “I thought you might need a new set, your others were worn down to nubs.” I chuckle. 

We sit around the table again, and Jack leans over to whisper to me. “If your parents weren’t here, I would be kissing you silly.” I blush, gently whacking his leg. “You can do that later.” I whisper back.

In the floors below us, everything is normal. No candles, no menorah. But here, in this room, there is warmth and love and happiness. Things are just the way they should be. This memory will be one I will always remember fondly, no matter what may happen in the future. Moments like these are the moments we live for, the ones we think about in our darkest days. You feel the joy in your heart, and it’s the best feeling in the world.


	18. Chapter 17

JACK’S POV:

“Merry christmas!” Race shouts. The boys cheer, their faces bright. The building is freezing, but none of us feel it. The presents sit under the tree, hastily wrapped in newspaper and butcher paper. The tree is one we picked up off the street, but it’s perfect. It’s decorated with ornaments made out of buttons and bottle caps. The tree is lit by some candles nearby, the scent of the wax flowing through the air along with the pine. 

The boys are clustered around the room. Some are chatting, some are playing cards. Katharine and Alex are sitting together talking about the last suffrage meeting they went to. The two of them talk non-stop now. It’s nice to see them getting along so well.

What's left of the food sits on the table. Davey brought some of his mom’s meatloaf, Katharine brought some of the fancy food from her house, Alex came with a batch of cookies, and the rest of us managed to scrounge up some sodas and snacks. It’s not the nicest feast, but it’s pretty damn good for a bunch of newsies.

“Hey, Les! Come over here! We need ya to place the star on top of the tree!” Finch shouts. Les runs over, a big smile on his face. Finch hands him the star, which is actually just a rusty piece of metal. He hoists Les onto his shoulders and holds him up as he places the star on the tree. “Looks perfect!” Alex shouts out. 

“Presents time!” Specs yells. Everybody hurries to gather around the tree. “Les, you go first. You’re the youngest.” Albert hands him a small box and Les opens it. “My very own newsboy hat!” He proudly puts it on and it falls over his eyes. “Ah, you’ll grow into it.” Jojo says, slapping him gently on the back. 

Little by little, gifts are exchanged. Crutchie gives everyone a pair of gloves that Alex helped him sew. They’re a little lumpy and a little threadbare, but they’re the best pair of gloves I have ever owned. Spot got Race a nice silver kazoo and Race got Spot a pair of brass knuckles. All of us pitched in to get Davey a brand new book from the book store. He started reading it immediately. 

I got a new set of paint brushes, with real wooden handles. It’s perfect timing too, my old brushes were pretty much destroyed. Katharine receives one of those new fountain pens. It even has a silver tip. I saw some of the shops selling them on 11th. 

Everyone is playing with their new gifts, exchanging thank yous and hugs. The energy in this room is tangible. Everyone’s hearts are glowing. “Hey Alex. Come up to the roof with me, I have something to give you.” I whisper. Alex and I grab our coats and climb up the fire escape, leaving the noise of the party below. 

The night air is cold and our breath freezes into white clouds. I can hear cars and people moving below, the street lights tiny below us, like a reflection of the stars above us. The moon is almost full and it looks down on us. We sit on the edge of the roof, feet dangling over. It would be scary if we didn’t know that we had someone there to catch us if we fell.

“I know you don’t celebrate christmas, but I got you something anyway.” I reach into my pocket and pull out a small cardboard box. I hand it to her and she slowly opens it, tucking the box into the lid. Her mouth goes wide as she pulls out the necklace. “It’s the soda cap from our first date. I wanted to save it for something special.” 

“Jack…” her voice is soft. She puts it on, gently holding the cap. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” She wraps me in a hug, giving me a long kiss. 

“We should probably go back inside before they wonder where we went.” Alex says. I nod. We climb down together, coming back in through the window. It looks like no one noticed we were gone. They’re all still clustered around the tree.

“Oh! Look!” Jojo crows, pointing to the space above the window. I look up and see a thing of mistletoe hanging from the frame. “That wasn’t there before.” Alex mumbles. “Your welcome.” Katharine winks, crossing her arms. “C’mon, you hafta kiss! It’s the rules!” Mike shouts. I roll my eyes but I turn towards Alex.

She stands on her tip toes and we kiss. Everyone cheers and wolf whistles. I pull away and grab Alex’s hand, leading her over to the group. We join them around the tree. Alex leans her head on my shoulder and I wrap my arm around her. 

I feel safe here, surrounded by my family. It’s odd and mismatched, but it’s the only family I could ever want. We’re definitely not perfect, we argue and fight. But in the end we always make up and get along. We know that we would fight for each other, that when one of us needs help we’ll be there. And that’s the only thing that really defines family.


	19. Chapter 18

ALEX’S POV:

The streets are lined with snow. White islands cover the roofs and sidewalks, marked by footprints. “Hey! Finch!” Ike shouts. Ike looks over, turning around. Finch chucks a snowball at him and hits his mark. Ike brushes the snow off his face, frowning. “You’re going down, Finch.” he grabs a handful of snow and throws it at Finch, who dodges it. “Snowball fight!” Race yells. All the newsies come running over, making snowballs as fast as they can.

The snowballs sail through the air, some hitting and some missing. I dodge a few, dragging Jack behind me. We kneel behind a small wall of snow. “Hey! No fair!” Les shouts, sending a snowball our way. I shield my face, laughing as the icy snow hits me. “Avenge my honor, Jack!” I shout. Jack throws one at Les, but it hits Davey instead. 

Everyone freezes, looking towards him. Davey wipes the snow away from his eyes. Everyone waits to see what he’ll do. “You asked for it!” he gathers a large chunk of snow and throws it, hitting Jack straight in the face. “Who knew Davey had such an arm?” he mutters.

Davey joins in, all his snowballs hitting a newsie or two. Mike and Ike are engaged in a fierce battle against each other, both of them covered in white. I can’t feel my fingers anymore, but I don’t care. I’m having too much fun to worry about frostbite.

I run behind Albert, getting snow down his shirt. He jumps forward with a surprised yelp. He starts to chase after me intending to do the same, but he gets distracted by Specs nailing him with a snowball. 

Race tackles Spot and both disappear into a large pile of untouched snow. Both of them arise like the living dead, covered head to toe in snow. Race is laughing hysterically at Spot, who is unamused. “You look the same as me, Higgins.” he says. Race just keeps laughing, and eventually Spot joins in. 

The fight continues for a while longer, until everyone is covered in snow and exhausted. I flop onto the ground, making a small snow angel. Jack joins me, making one of his own. My chest heaves as I recover my breath. “I can’t feel my face.” Jack chuckles. “Me neither.” Both of us start laughing, loud and unhinged. 

“I'm going to go put on some hot water for some cocoa.” Davey shouts. “Make sure to dust off all the snow before you come inside, I don’t want to have to clean up your puddles.” The boys follow him inside, shaking the snow off of their clothes and shoes.

Soon it’s just the two of us sitting in the snow. Jack’s cheeks are rosy with cold and I imagine that mine are too. Jack grabs my hand and I look at him. “My hand was cold.” he says with a smirk. I lean my head against his shoulder and stare out at the snowy streets. 

“Let’s go get some of that hot chocolate.” Jack helps me up but neither of us move. We stare at each other, our breath forming one cloud. “I’m so glad I met you.” Jack says quietly. “Me too. I don’t know what I would do without you,” I explain. We look at each other, not saying a word. The outside world quiets, shrinking to be just the two of us.

“I love you, Alex.” My face breaks into a smile and my heart flutters, and it feels like it could fly right out of my chest. “I love you too, Jack.” I press my cold lips to his. The fire inside my veins starts to warm me up, chasing away the winter cold.

I can’t believe it. Jack Kelly loves me.


	20. Chapter 19

JACK’S POV:

Something’s up with Alex. She’s quiet, which is completely weird for her. I can’t tell if she’s just deep in thought or if something is wrong. 

“Hey, is everything alright?” I ask quietly. She startles out of her trance, jumping a bit. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just thinking.” She fiddles with her necklace. “Well, whatcha thinking about?” she just shrugs, not giving me a straight answer. I sit down next to her and scootch close enough that our legs are touching. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”

“It’s just the Delancey's. They’re still pissed that I bested ‘em. Apparently word got around of what happened. They’ve been harrassing me for a couple days, trying to get me to quit. They think that if I quit they can salvage their reputations.” 

Those damn Delanceys. They don’t know when to quit. “Well, if you want, I could teach them a lesson. I’ve been looking for an excuse to hit ‘em.” Alex chuckles, some of the tension lifting from her shoulders. “They’ll get sick of bothering me eventually and move on to their next target. I just gotta keep ignoring them until they get bored.” 

“Are they smart enough to realize they’re messing with the toughest girl in New York City? And that her boyfriend could take both of them down in a matter of minutes?” 

“I don’t think they’re smart enough, period.” Alex and I start laughing. “Those two share one braincell between them, and half the time Wiesel has it.” she adds. “Yeah. I wouldn’t be too scared of those two. If they try anything, I’ll make sure they won’t see straight for a week.” I say this seriously so she knows that I’m not joking. I would do anything to protect her. In this city, you hold on to the people you love as tight as you can. Otherwise the city takes them too.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt because of me, Jack. You’re already clumsy enough, you don’t need more bruises.” I grab her hand and squeeze it, looking her straight in the eyes. “Promise me that if they ever try something you’ll call for me, alright?” she rolls her eyes but she promises. “I can handle myself.” she insists. “I know you can, but I’m not just going to sit by when you’re in trouble. It’s my job to protect you.”

“That’s not your responsibility, Jack. Don’t put that on yourself. You’ll only regret it.” She says. “Caring is a risk you take when you love someone. No matter what I’ll always do my best to keep you safe. It’s not just for you, it’s for me too. I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you. You’re family, and family fights for one another.”

Her mouth curves into a small smile. She places a soft hand on my jaw and pulls me in for a kiss. Every kiss is like the first time, with fireworks and butterflies in my stomach. I can’t imagine kissing anyone else and feeling the same way.

“I am so lucky I met you, Jack Kelly.” she whispers. “You have my clumsiness to thank. Without that, I never would have spilled paint on you.” she giggles, a golden sound. “It was pure fate that I was standing there when you tripped. Who would’ve thought that would be how we first met?” 

It is kind of crazy that we met by coincidence. Coincidence is usually bad for me, like coincidentally running into a police officer or Schneyder. Since he got out of jail, he’s been lurking around the streets looking for a job. Unsurprisingly, he still holds a grudge against me. 

Anyway, I guess there can be good coincidences too. They might look like a terrible accident, but sometimes they can be a blessing in disguise.


	21. Chapter 20

ALEX’S POV:

What a day. I sold all my papers by noon, which I’ve never done before. It probably has something to do with the headline. There was a whole thing about a factory explosion. I tried to read the article but I got bored after the first paragraph. 

Jack still has a few papers to return so we head over to hand them back to the Delancey’s. A couple other newsies are doing the same, getting their money back. It’s all thanks to the strike that we can do this. 

“I have five unsold papers. That’s five cents back.” Jack says, slapping down his papers. Wiesel slips him the money and takes his papers. He folds them and adds them to the stacks. “Hey there, Alex. You sick of pretending to be a boy yet? I bet you could be much more successful in another capacity.” Oscar emphasises the word ‘capacity’, hinting at something rather unsavory.

“Hm. Still with the macho man routine. I wonder, is it to make up for something you might be lacking down below?” The newsies all start laughing, mocking the Delancey’s. The two of them are fuming, both with embarrassment and anger. “Watch your mouth, skank. You shouldn’t be talking to men that way.” Morris spits. The crowd goes silent. All the newsies glare at the Delanceys. The anger radiates off of every single one of them.

“What did you just say to her?” Jack growls. “You heard me. The skank should watch her mouth around men.” Morris repeats. Jack lunges forward, his fist aimed at Morris’ face. “Jack! Stop!” I grab his vest and pull him back. “Don’t. It won’t help anything.” I whisper. “I’m not going to let that asshole say that about you!” Jack shouts. “Who cares! It doesn’t matter!” I yell. 

Jack pushes off my arm, turning around. He swings at Morris, knocking him to the ground. Blood is pouring out of his nose and staining his shirt. He sits up and coughs out some blood, a tooth landing on the ground next to him. “What the fuck, Jack?” I shout. He turns around to face me, his fist still clenched. “I swear to God, you don’t know when to stop!” I scream. “W-” I cut him off with a glare. “Roof. Now. Don’t say anything or I might push you off the ladder.” 

The newsies are whispering to each other, watching the two of us. “And all of you! Don’t just stand there watching us! Go do something productive!” The newsies scatter, sensing that I’m not to be messed with right now. I stomp to the fire escape and start the climb up. Jack follows behind me, silent. 

Once we’re both on the roof, we stand across from each other. “Jack, you can’t do that!” 

“I’m protecting you. I’m not going to let them get away with insulting my girlfriend!

“I can take care of myself, Jack. I’m not a helpless little girl. I don’t need you fighting my battles.” I’m sick and tired of people thinking that I can’t do things myself. I am perfectly capable of handling things on my own.

“You need someone to look out for you! You’re not invincible, you know.” 

“Fuck that! And you know what, fuck you! I can handle myself just fine without you butting in and making things worse.”

“Um. Guys?” Both of us turn around to glare at the voice. Davey is peeking his head up over the edge of the roof. “What, Davey?” I growl. “We can hear you from below. It sounds pretty nasty. They said I should come up and help you guys talk it out.”

“We don’t need your help, Davey.” Jack hisses. “Is this your guy’s first argument?” Davey asks. “No, of course not. We’ve been together for a year now, of course we’ve argued.” I state. “So. You’ve been together for a year. That’s a long time.” 

“What’s your point, Davey?” Jack questions sternly. “Well, there’s no sense in ending a year long relationship over something this small.” Davey replies. “Who said we were breaking up?” I say. Jack nods in agreement, crossing his arms. “I’m just pissed that Jack let his anger get the best of him. I’m not going to dump him just for trying to protect me.” 

“Do you understand where he’s coming from, Alex?” I say yes. “It sounds like Jack was trying to keep you safe because he loves you. Why does that make you angry?”

“It makes me angry because he doesn’t think I can handle things myself. I don’t need a guy to fight my battles for me.” 

“I never said that you couldn’t handle it on your own. You definitely could. But just because you can doesn’t mean you should.” Jack states. “It infuriates me when anyone tries to hurt you, I can’t help it. I don’t want you to suffer.”

My anger starts to fade away. “I know you’re only doing it because you care. I just don’t want you to think that my wellbeing rests on your shoulders. Bad things are gonna happen, and you can’t place the blame on yourself. That’s what I’m most worried about. I don’t want to see you blaming yourself for things that you can’t control.” 

“I just don’t want to lose you.” Jack says quietly. “You won’t lose me, Jack. I promise.” I give him a quick kiss. The anger that both of us harbored is gone. 

“Are you two all good? Can I go back inside now?” Davey asks. “Yes, mr. therapist.” I joke. Davey waves goodbye and retreats down the ladder. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.” I say. “Me too. I’m glad we made up.” Jack replies. “I can’t stay angry forever, otherwise I would miss out on your kisses.” I place a chaste kiss on his lips once more. 

Yes, we may argue. But what’s important is that we always forgive each other. Without forgiveness you always hold that anger, and that doesn’t do anyone any good. 


	22. Chapter 21

JACK’S POV:

Sketching is always a way for me to relieve stress. The movement of the pencil, the focus. Everything else if forgotten for a moment. It’s peaceful. The weight of the pencil grounds me, the crinkle of the paper a familiar sound. Each line makes sense, it has order. I watch something I love and capture the image on paper, all so I can hold on to it for longer.

“Hey Davey, what’s a word for happy, six letters, starts with an E?” Alex asks. Her pencil hovers over the newspaper as she waits for an answer. “Elated. E-l-a-t-e-d.” Davey replies. “Thanks.” she quickly scribbles it down in the boxes. “I don’t know how you do those things, it’s so boring.” Race says. “It’s fun! You just don’t have the brains to enjoy it,” she jokes. Race dramatically puts a hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. “You wound me!”

“Hey, Race, you’ll know this one. Brand of cigars, ends with an A.” Race pulls the cigar out of his mouth and looks at the brand label. “Corona!” he says proudly. Alex jots down the word, telling him it fits. 

“Synonym for idiot, four letters.” 

“Race!” Albert shouts out. “Hey!” Race yells. “It does fit…” Alex chuckles. “I don’t get no respect around here!” Race sticks his cigar in his mouth and flops down onto a bed. “You know, when I run the biggest business in this whole city, you’ll all be sorry.” he states. “If that ever happens, I’ll bite off my own elbows.” Albert says. “Just you wait, I’ll have my own car and a house big enough for all of you guys. It’ll have a pool and everything.” 

“If I had money, I would buy a huge ranch out in the country. Lots of horses and sheep, maybe some chickens.” Albert explains. “I would buy a house with a giant library full of classic books. And I would pay for university, and a good school for Les.” Davey says.

“I would get one of those big houses, and a new gramophone to listen to music. If I wanted, I could go to the symphony whenever I wanted, get front row seats.” I nod at Spec’s dream. That sounds nice. “I could get tickets to the movies every weekend, and I could buy a nice winter jacket. One without holes.” Jojo continues. 

“What about you Alex?” I ask. She thinks for a moment before answering. “I would get a nice house, with enough room for all of you. It would have a garden, with flowers and everything. I’d get a dog and a cat, maybe a bird. I’d set up a whole art studio for Jack, and a library for Davey. Everyone would have their own room with their own bed, and nice clothes. We would eat like kings with three meals a day. And we’d have a heater so we wouldn’t be cold during winter. It would be luxurious.”

I watch Alex as she shares her fantasy. Her eyes glow with a far away look. She has a smile as she talks, painting a picture with her words. Everyone is silent as they listen to her, as enraptured as I am. I imagine all of us living in a nice house, like the one she described. I could get a nice job, maybe buy a ring for Alex one day. We could all have a normal life.

I don’t even notice that I’m sketching Alex at first. I look down and see the outline that I’ve started, and I continue. I capture each beautiful line of her. I draw her smile, the one that’s like pure sunshine. I draw her eyes, the ones that sparkle with joy. I draw her hair, falling gracefully down her back. I can’t fully capture what makes her so beautiful on paper, but I can try. Every stroke brings the drawing closer and closer to life.

“Jack, that’s amazing.” I startle out of my trance to see Alex sitting next to me. The room is empty, everyone gone to grab dinner. She’s peeking over at my drawing, her lips curved into a smile. “It’s like looking in a mirror.” she murmurs. “It’s just a rough sketch. I can make it better-” she interrupts me. “It’s perfect, Jack.” she places a hand on my arm and leans forward to kiss my cheek. No matter how many times she does it, it always makes me blush.

“Do you mind if I hang it with my other drawings?” I ask. “Of course not.” I get up and walk to my wall. It’s covered with drawings. Some are done on newspaper, some on plain white. I have pictures of each newsie, of Medda and her shows. The wall is almost filled, but there’s still room for one more. I grab a tack and pin the drawing to the wall, right in the middle. 

I try to capture the moment in every pencil line. I feel like it sinks into the lead and paper, captures it in some way. I can remember each memory that goes along with each drawing. The one I have of Jojo is when he got his tooth knocked out in a fight. Spec’s is when he got his first pair of real glasses. Katharine’s is when she got her promotion. 

And then there’s Alex’s. This drawing isn’t like the others. It’s not just one memory. It holds a year's worth of time, from our first meeting to moments ago. When I look at it, I see our story. It reminds me of how lucky I am to have her. I truly am the luckiest man in the world.

A/N: Crossword puzzles weren’t invented until 1913, but we’re just going to ignore that. Fun fact, they were invented in ww1 by a soldier in the trenches who was bored.


	23. Chapter 22

ALEX’S POV:

I swear, these boys must be dragging their clothes along a barbed wire fence. I’m sewing up another hole every couple of days. Race holds the record, with six holes in one day. He refuses to say how he got them, and to be honest, I don’t really want to know.

I keep having to steal thread and buttons from my mom. She says she doesn’t mind, but I still feel bad. They cost money, something we’re short on right now. On the bright side, these boys have never had a good seamstress in their midst. Before I came, they were sewing up their own clothes, which did not go well. 

“Hey, Alex? Can I get some help please?” It’s Jack’s voice, and it sounds pained. I whirl around to look at him. “Jesus, Jack! What happened?” He has a bruise forming around his eye and another one on his jaw. His knuckle is raw and bleeding. I race over to him, checking his injuries. I place a hand on his shoulder and he winces. I pull back, getting even more worried. “Did you get hit by a car or something?” I ask. “No, got in a fight. Can we talk about it later? I really want to get some ice on these.” 

I usher him to the couch while I run to get some ice from the icebox. I also grab some of the first aid supplies from the bathroom. 

I take a seat in front of him, handing him the ice pack. He gingerly places it on his eye. “This is going to sting a bit.” I dampen the cloth with some alcohol and gently dab at his wounds. He hisses a bit but he stays still. “I’m going to put a bandage on these, alright? Don’t want them getting infected.” I wrap a white bandage around his hand, fastening it with a safety pin. “Shirt. Off.” I order. “Now’s not really the time for-” I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean. Take it off, I need to see if you have any more cuts.”

He takes off his vest and shirt, tossing them in a crumpled pile on the floor. His chest is covered with bruises and some cuts, as well as his back. “Oy, Jack. You’re gonna be in pain for a while.” I wash his cuts and place some bandages on them. “Put that ice pack on some of your other bruises, okay?” he does as I say, alternating it between injuries.

“So, are you going to tell me what happened?” I ask. “Like I told you, I got in a fight.” so he’s going to be difficult about this. “Who did you fight with?” I press. “Doesn’t matter. I won.” 

“Not by the looks of it, you didn’t. Now tell me what happened, or I’m going to let Davey yell at you.” This is a threat. Davey is the mom friend, and he will lecture like a mom. It’s funny to watch, but not as funny when you’re the one being lectured.

“Fine. Just don’t get pissed, alright?” I cross my arms, waiting for him to continue. “The Delancey’s were saying some crude things about ya, so I socked ‘em.” 

“And then they socked you?” He rolls his eyes but he nods. “Jack, you have to let it slide. I don’t want you to get hurt,” 

“I’m not gonna let them get away with saying things like that. They need a few good hits to the head.” 

“I can agree with that, but you getting in fights won’t do any good. It’ll just get them angrier. And when those two get angry, they do something stupid. They’ll start going after us any way they can, and that means me, you, or the boys. They can fight ‘em off, but I don’t want to be sewing on any more buttons when they lose them in a fight. I’m running low.” 

Jack chuckles, some of the angst he was holding releasing. “Okay. I’ll stop. But I’m still gonna steal their hats when they’re not looking.”


	24. Chapter 23

JACK’S POV:

The street is dark, only illuminated by the streetlights. The cobblestone streets are hard to see. “Okay, but Race, if you gave Les four cups of coffee he would probably just pass out.” Alex argues. “Or he would have a ton of energy and do all the chores in record time,” Race points out. “Neither of you should ever be giving my brother coffee.” Davey orders.

All of us are walking home after a late night at Medda’s. She let us watch one of her rehearsals. As rambunctious as the boys are, they always sit still for Medda’s performances. They love listening to her just as much as the rest of us. They always give her a standing ovation when she’s done.

Davey is carrying a sleeping Les on his back, the little boy snoring away. He fell asleep halfway through the rehearsal, right on Spot. Spot didn’t seem to mind though. He even stole Spec’s jacket to use as a blanket for Les. 

“Hey! Look at all those newsies!” A drunken voice slurs. All of us stop, wary of what’s coming. The Delancey brothers stumble out of the shadows, obviously intoxicated. “Oy. Not these two.” Davey huffs. Oscar has a mostly empty bottle of whiskey in his hand and he swings it as he walks.

“Oh! And it’s the girl pretending to be a boy!” Morris shouts. The two of them laugh loudly at their own insult. “C’mon, just go around ‘em.” Albert whispers. We start to walk past them, but then Morris grabs my arm and pulls me back. “You broke my brother’s nose, asshole.” I shake him off, walking away. “Ay! Come back here!” Oscar shouts. He grabs me again, and this time I push him. “Jack, don’t. Let’s head home.” Alex says.

“Oh, shut up girl. You don’t know nothin’.” Morris slurs. I’m about to yell at him, but Alex places a hand on my shoulder and gently ushers me back. “You’re still recovering from your last fight. I don’t want you to open your cuts again.” 

“Aww, look at little Jack! He needs his whore to take care of him.” the alleyway goes silent. “What did you just call her?” Race asks. “A whore. That’s what she is, ain’t she? Not like she can do any other job.” I can feel the tension rise. “Davey, take Les and go. Get the first aid ready.” Jojo whispers. Davey doesn’t argue this time. He knows that something is about to go down and he can’t stop it. It’s best to keep Les out of the way.

“You take that back. Right now. Or I’m going to make sure you can’t walk straight for a month.” Ike hisses. “Look at them, thinking they're so tough!” Oscar chuckles. They are clearly too drunk to think straight. They just signed their death certificate. 

I lunge forward, hitting Oscar. I can feel my cuts open again, but I don’t care. I can’t feel anything but blind rage. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Finch and Albert fighting Morris. 

“Boys! Stop!” we all freeze to see four policemen running up the alley towards us. “Run!” Specs yells. We all start sprinting. I hear them chasing after us, blowing their whistles. I look behind me to check on Alex, and I see her trip over a cobblestone. “Alex!” I start to run towards her but Race shoves me back. “Go! I’ll get her!” 

I keep running, but then I hear Alex call out my name. I turn around to see her and Race being hauled off by the police, hands forced behind their backs. “Alex! Race!” I shout. I’m about to race towards them but Albert stops me. “We have to get out of here. You can’t help them if you're locked up too.” I want to argue but I know he’s right.

We rush back to the house. When we get inside, everyone is gathered around. Davey is checking in to see if they’re all okay. “Jack! Albert, thank God.” he waits for more of us to enter, but when the door shuts his face falls. “Where’s Alex and Race?” he asks. “The cops, they got ‘em. I couldn’t stop them, they were too far away.” I can feel panic engulfing me. They got Race and Alex.

“Breathe, Jack. Breathe.” Davey sits me down and I try to take some deep breaths. “The cops got Race?” Spot asks. I nod, too tired for words. “Fuck!” he swears. “Do we know where they mighta gone? Maybe we can ask Katharine for some bail money.” Ike asks. “I think I know.” Crutchie says. His voice is soft and small. We all look at him. “The workhouses.” he answers. “The what houses?” Mike questions.

“The workhouses. It’s a new kind of refuge. I’ve heard it's worse. It's where they’re sending all the kids they pick up off the streets. It’s not good.” all of us think about this. I remember being told about the workhouses by one of the kids in the refuge. From what he told me, the refuge sounded like a paradise.

“We have to get them out.” I say. “We will, Jack. We just have to know which one they ended up at.” Davey is trying to calm me down, but it’s not working. “No! We have to find them, I can’t let them go through that. It’s my fault that they got taken, Davey. I can’t let either of them get hurt!” The thought of anything happening to Race or Alex makes my gut churn. 

“Jack. The only thing we can do right now is call Alex’s parents. Go to bed, all of you. I’ll call them and explain what happened. We’ll figure out a plan in the morning.” 

“Tell them I’m sorry, okay? Tell them that I’ll get her back.” my voice cracks. Davey nods his head yes, ushering me to bed. I take one of the bunks, not having the energy to climb all the way to the roof. 

I try to sleep, but I can’t. Alex and Race are in danger. Who knows what’s happening right now. They could be hurt or hungry or- no. That won’t do any good. Don’t focus on that. Focus on a plan. How are we going to get them back? We have to get them back.

I can never protect the people I love. Why do I keep putting them at risk? Everyone who loves me gets hurt. Because of me, the love of my life and my friend are in some workhouse suffering. This is all my fault, isn’t it?


	25. Chapter 24

ALEX’S POV:

Oh my God. This place looks like something out of a Dickens novel. The building is built out of bricks, the red mostly eroded. It’s giant, two stories tall and at least a block long. “Welcome ‘ta the workhouse.'' The police officer pushes me forward and I stumble. “Hey! Careful!” Race shouts. The cop smacks the back of Race’s head, telling him to shut up. I give Race a sympathetic look but stay silent. No point in arguing with the officer.

He leads us to the front door and knocks. The door swings open with a thud, and a lady peeks her head out. “Got two more for ya, Ms. Heathrow.” he shoves us towards her. The lady has a small button nose and dark beady eyes. Her graying blonde hair is tied back into a tight bun with not a hair out of place. She opens the door wider, revealing her full form. She’s clothed in a starched grey dress with a spotless white apron. Her black shoes are shined to perfection, glinting in the light. 

“I’ll take it from here, officer. Thank you for the help.” The officer tips his hat and walks back down the muddy pathway. Ms. Heathrow studies us for a second, taking in our messy appearances. “Hm. Inside, follow me.” she orders. She watches us as we enter, her eyes daring us to try anything.

The inside of the building is worse than the outside. The floorboards are molding and I can hear people crying. A rat skitters over my foot and I scream, attempting to kick it away. “Better get used to those.” Ms. Heathrow smirks. “Don’t worry, they won’t hurt you.” Race whispers. Ms. Heathrow leads us up the stairs. I worry that they’ll collapse right under my feet but we make it to the second story.

“Welcome to your new home.” Ms. Heathrow watches the horror on our faces with glee. Beds are stacked against the walls, barely a foot between them. Three or four children are in each bunk, staring at us warily. The beds only have a moth-eaten brown blanket covered in a myriad of stains, a mattress, no pillows or anything. Ms. Heathrow directs us to a bunk near the back of the room. “You two will share this bunk. Consider yourselves lucky, usually you would have to share with another child.” 

The two of us gingerly sit on the bed. I swear I feel something squelch out from under the mattress. “Now. The rules. The washrooms are down the hall. You are only allowed to bathe once every week, and only if we have enough water. Food will be brought every night at six. The guards will constantly keep an eye on you and the others. If you misbehave, you will be punished. Understand?” Race and I nod, unsure of what to say. With that, Ms. Heathrow turns on her heels and goes back downstairs. 

“You two must be new.” a voice says. A boy hops down from the bunk above us. He smells something awful and his clothes are much too big, his pants held up by a scrap of fabric. His hair is oily and his skin is pale from lack of sun. “I’m Peter.” He sticks out his hand for us to shake, and we do. “Welcome to hell,” he says. He has a gap toothed smile and freckles dotting his nose. He can’t be more than ten. 

“Let me give you some advice. Keep your head down, don’t argue, and take what you’re given. Don’t mess with the guards, they get away with anything. We’ve lost more than a few kids to them. It’s survival of the fittest here. This ain’t home.” he sounds so serious. “By lost-” he nods his head to confirm my suspicion. “Also, girls ain’t common around here. Make sure to keep an eye on her. She won’t do well in here on her own. You better tuck your hair under your cap.” he’s straightforward and serious. It doesn’t fit a 

“I can handle myself.” I argue. “Doesn’t matter. There are maybe twenty girls in here, so they get picked on. You’re lucky you ended up with a gentleman like me above you.” he gives a confident smile and crosses his arms. He’s a spunky kid. “Thanks for the help, Peter.” I give him a soft smile. “No problem, miss. I had someone help me when I first got here, thought I should return the favor.”

“That’s very kind, Peter. I’m Alex and this is Race.” Race nods his head in greeting, chewing his cigar nervously. “You better get some sleep before tomorrow. Chores start early,” Peter says. “Alright. Thank you again, Peter.” I give him another smile. He clambers up to his bunk and I hear him move above us.

“He’s right. Let’s get some rest, we’ll figure out more tomorrow.” I whisper. “Take the side nearest to the wall.” Race orders. I do as he says and climb in, pulling the scratchy brown blanket over me. Race does the same. I stare at the bunk above us, my eyes refusing to close. 

“They’re gonna get us out of here, right?” I ask. “Of course they will. We just have to tough it out for a bit.” I turn to face Race. “I’m scared.” I admit. “Me too. But we’ll be fine. You got me to protect ya.” he jokes. In all honesty, I’m grateful that he got taken too. I feel guilty just thinking about it, but I wouldn’t want to be alone here. Race knows what he’s doing, he’s been in the refuge. He has experience with this sort of place. As long as he’s here, we’ll be okay.

A/N: This is a fictional workhouse, not the infamous Blackwell one. I don’t know much about workhouses, so a lot of this is fictional. I apologize for any historical inaccuracies!


	26. Chapter 25

JACK’S POV:

“We’re never going to find them.” I sigh. “Shut up, Kelly. We’re going to find them. Your moping doesn’t help.” Spot hisses. “There are only three workhouses in New York, so they must be in one of them.” Davey insists. “That's three options, filled with hundreds of kids each.” Albert leans back in his chair, as angry as the rest of us.

“God damn it! This is all your fault, Jack! You let Race go back to get her!” Spot pushes his books off the table, standing up. “You think I wanted this to happen? I was going to go get her but Race said he would do it! I didn’t have time to argue.” Spot marches over to me. Even with his short stature, he seems to loom over me. “If anything happens to my boyfriend, I swear to God Kelly, I will kill you. I won’t hesitate.” 

“Hey, my girlfriend is in there too. You’re not the only one suffering right now.” I shout back. I stand up, balling my fists. “I’m just as worried as you, Spot.” Davey comes in between the two of us to make sure we don’t throw punches. “Fighting won’t do either of you any good. Now come on, let’s get back to work. The sooner we figure out where they are the sooner we can get them out.”

We take our seats around the table again. “Alex’s parents called again this morning. They wanted to know if we’d found her yet. They’re pretty freaked out. They wanted to come and look for her, but I told them to stay put. We’ll have a better chance of getting her out than they do. They said to keep them updated. They’re going to try and talk to some of the officers, see if they can find out where they went.” Finch says. 

“Jojo, Ike, Mike, you three check out the Ferennel workhouse. Specs, Mush, Albert, you go look at the Martin workhouse. Romeo, you and I will check the Berendam workhouse. Katharine is pulling some strings to see what she can find. Until we know something, Jack and Spot, you two stay here and wait for a call from Alex’s parents.” Davey explains. 

“Fine. But if you hear anything you call us right away.” Spot says. Davey nods in agreement. The boys hurriedly leave, all going their separate ways. The room is too quiet and you could cut the tension with a knife.

Both of us look like crap. Neither of us slept a wink, and we have dark circles under our eyes. I didn’t even change out of my clothes from yesterday. “Jack, what if we don’t find them?” Spot’s voice cracks. His usually stony exterior is breaking. “I-I don’t know.” I admit. “I’m scared, Jack. I’m really scared. I can’t lose Race. I’ve already lost so many people. If I lose Race, I don’t think I can keep going.” 

I know what he means. Everytime you lose someone you love, a little part of you dies. You feel that hollowness forever. You learn to ignore it, but it never goes away. There’s a limit. You know that when that one person dies, you won’t be able to recover. You’ll finally have lost too much. The only part of your heart still beating will still. 

“You know, I never thought I’d meet the one.” Spot nods in agreement. “Then I met Alex, and it just clicked. I knew. She’s the girl I want to marry, start a family with, grow old with. She understands me. I’ve never loved anyone like the way I love her.” I fight back the tears that come to my eyes as I share this. I’m never this honest with anyone but Alex.

“I know what you mean. Race kinda grew on me. Like one day, I looked at him and realized ‘holy shit, I love this dumbass’. He’s the only guy for me. I’ve been with other people, but none of them loved me like he loves me. The way he smiles, the way he kisses me. I’ve never felt so loved or loved someone so much. He’s an idiot, but he’s my beautiful idiot.” Spot smiles wistfully. 

Both of us are missing our other half. Both of us are worried sick. We don’t always get along, but the two of us have more in common than we think. We’re going to have to work together to find our loves. We will get them back, whatever it takes.


	27. Chapter 26

ALEX’S POV:

“I’m pretty sure we’re just making the floors dirtier by washing it with this water.” I mumble. The water is browner than my hair, and it has several dead bugs floating in it. “I don’t even know why we’re washing the floor. It’s basically rotting out from underneath us.” Race holds his cigar in his mouth as he scrubs. “You two better shush up, or they guards will hear ya. They don’t like complaining.” Peter whispers.

Peter’s been a great help. He taught us how to survive here. It’s only been a day, but so far we haven’t had any problems. We haven’t gotten any food and we only got a couple hours of sleep, but so far we’re doing alright.

“Alex, your hair is falling out of your cap again.” Race whispers. I look around to make sure no one is watching as a I tuck it back in. “I’m starving. I could eat one of those bugs.” I say. Race wrinkles his nose but his stomach grumbles. 

A sharp whistle blow silences the room. “Get up! Time for dinner! Back to your bunks or you don’t get any.” a guard shouts. I drop my brush into the bucket of water and stand up. My knees are bruised from putting all my weight on them. We must have been working for at least eight hours. First they had us wash the bedding and then scrub the floors. They been yelling at us all day. I saw one kid faint ‘cause he was so hungry. His friends got him back to his bunk, but the guards saw and forced him to get back to work. 

Race and I sit on our bunk, awaiting the food. The guards come out with baskets of bread. I can see the mold all the way from here. They start handing it out to each kid. When they get to us, they hand us one roll to share. “I thought we got one each.” Race grumbles. He splits it in half and hands a piece to me. I take a bite and I swear I feel my teeth crack.

“This is like rock!” I whisper. It tastes like sawdust too, probably because that’s what it’s made out of. I do my best to choke each bite down. It tastes like shit and I doubt it’ll keep me full for long. “This is worse than Jack’s cooking.” Race forces a smile.

The guards walk back through the bunks, sneering at the kids. They have power and they know it. “Look, it’s the two newcomers.” they stop in front of our bunk, looming over us. Race pushes me behind him a bit in an attempt to hide me from view. “How ya liking your new home? I’m sure it lives up to your street rat standards.”

“Could use some better lighting. I can almost see your ugly mug.” Race snarks. The guard pulls him up by his shirt, looking him in the eyes. “Watch your mouth, boy. You don’t got anyone to help you here.” He drops Race’s collar and Race stumbles back. Peter is watching from above, a worried look on his face. The guards start to move on, done with their taunting. Race sits back on the bed and straightens his hat like nothing happened. 

“Race, what the hell were you thinking?” Race just lays back on the bed. “If they’re only paying attention to me, they won’t pay attention to you. Gotta keep you out of their line of sight. Jack would kill me if anything happened to you.”

“And Spot will kill me if anything happens to you, Race! You can’t be playing hero in here.” I argue. “The worst that happens to me is I get bruised. You got more to worry about. I’ve been in places like this, I can handle it.” I know that he has a point, but I don’t want to see him being reckless like this. “Just promise me you won’t be putting yourself in unnecessary danger.” Race crosses his heart. I join him in laying down on the bed. I hope Jack and Spot get us out of here soon.


	28. Chapter 27

TW: Gross men being suggestive

RACE’S POV:

I’ve been trying to thread this needle for at least twenty minutes. “Alex, how the hell am I supposed to do this?” she reaches over and threads the needle for me in less than three seconds. “Now, just pull the thread through and sew the hole shut.” I do as she says, doing my best to stitch the jacket. When I finish, the hole is sewed shut but it looks all weird. “You pulled the thread too tight when the fabric was too far apart. Closer stitches.” 

“What’s even the point of this? Why don’t people just bring it to a tailor?” I groan. “Because they don’t have to pay us here. Free labor.” she snaps the thread with her teeth and tosses it onto the table beside her. “This ain’t legal.” Alex shrugs her shoulders. “Lots of things are legal when they shouldn’t be. If you got money or you make money, the government looks the other way.” 

“Hey. No talking.” The guard smacks the back of her head. “Sorry, sir.” he smacks the back of her head again, and this time her hat comes off. “I said no-” her hair unfurls down her back. I freeze. Crap. This ain’t good. “You're a girl?” Alex quickly grabs her hat and tucks her hair into it again. “Don’t matter if I am or not. Won’t make any difference in how I do my work.” she says quietly.

“A girl in a workhouse? You ain’t got no parents?” one of them sneers. “I got parents. Now please, I can’t do my sewing if I’m distracted.” Her voice is steely and confident, but I can hear the fear underneath. “Aww, look, she thinks she can scare us!” 

“Leave her alone. I bet Ms. Heathrow wouldn’t like you interfering with work. We got a lot of clothing to get through.” I hiss. The guards mumble but head off. Even they don’t want to risk the wrath of Ms. Heathrow. 

“Alex, you okay?” Alex’s hands are shaking and she can’t thread the needle. “Yeah. I was hoping no one would find out.” I take the needle from her, afraid that she’ll stab herself. “It’s okay. They’ll forget about it all in a couple of days.” 

“Race, they know. They won’t be forgetting. The only thing I had going for me ain’t going for me no more. This is bad, Race.” 

“I know. But I won’t let anything happen to you, promise.” I mean what I say. Alex is like a sister to me. I’m not gonna leave her alone in here. I hand her back the needle and she threads it, her hands a little less shaky. 

The next few hours are spent sewing holes. I lose count of how many repairs I do, but it must be well into the eighties. My fingers are blistered and peppered with cuts. I kept poking myself with the needle. I literally put my sweat, blood, and tears into my work.

“Line up! Back to the bunks!” a guard shouts. All of us get in line, orderly and straight. We march into the bunk room like a bunch of tired out soldiers. I’m surprised that all of us are still standing. I feel like I could collapse right now. The only thing keeping me up is the fact that if I fell onto these floors, I would smell worse than I already do.

Just like the night before, the guards come around with the bread. Each child gets a roll. When the guard comes by, they throw a roll to Peter but don’t give one to me or Alex. “Hey. What about our food?” I ask. The guard cocks his head, turning to face us. “You want food? You earn it.” he smirks. “I worked all day, I think I earned some bread.” I clench my fists, getting ready for a fight. Alex and I need this food, we’re barely able to live off the food we’re given. If we don’t get bread, I don’t know if we’ll be able to work. If we can’t work, we don’t get bread. It’s a vicious cycle, and it won’t end well. 

“You need us to keep working. We can’t work if we’re starved half to death.” I say. “We can replace you faster than you can say urchin. You’re replaceable, boy.”

“What do you want, then? My cigar? My hat? Maybe a hug?” I narrow my eyes. The guard thinks for a second. “Give me an hour with the girl.” I feel Alex tense up behind me. “Not happening. You touch her and I swear, I will tear you limb from limb.” I hiss. “You want food, you give us the girl. Fair trade.” the guard stares at Alex with a predatory gaze. It makes me want to punch him even more.

“No. She’s not property or something to trade. Leave her alone.” The guard stares me down, expecting me to break. I don’t back down. I push Alex behind me, making sure that he can’t get to her. “Fine. When you change your mind, you know where to find us.” He winks at Alex before walking away with his gang.

I turn to Alex and I see that she’s white as a sheet. “Hey. It’s okay. They’re gone.” I softly rub her shoulder. “This is why I didn’t want them to know.” she says quietly. “I’m scared, Race. I’m really scared.” a tear rolls down her face. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen her cry, and it’s shocking. She has such a tough exterior. She doesn’t let anything get to her. “I’m not gonna let you outta my sight, ya hear? As far as I’m concerned, they won’t get within six feet of you without getting a black eye.” 

Alex chuckles, wiping her eyes. “Thank you Race. As horrible as it is, I’m glad that you're here with me.” I smile at her. “Yup. You’re pretty lucky.” I smirk. She gently whacks my arm and laughs. 

Jack and Spot will get here any day now. I just have to keep her safe until then.


	29. Chapter 28

TW: sexual assault and violence

ALEX’S POV:

I nervously fiddle with my necklace. I’ve been touching it just to remind me that I’ll get out of here. The necklace grounds me, reminds me that there is hope. I need it now more than ever.

“Alex, can you hand me the big needle? I poke myself less with that one.” Race asks. “You wouldn’t poke yourself if you looked at what you were doing.” I chuckle. I give him the large needle. Despite the size, I hear him yelp as he pokes himself a few moments later. I fight back a laugh. “Stupid needles. So tiny.” he mumbles.

I grab a piece of clothing out of the pile next to me. I inspect them for a rip and find that the knee is completely torn. I cut some thread and put it through the eye of the needle, tying a knot at the end. I slowly push the needle through the fabric. I’ve sewed hundreds of holes and rips, and I could do it with my eyes closed. But then I hear one of the guards speak and my hand slips. “Ow!” I pull my hand back. Blood is welling on the pad of my finger. 

I put my finger in my mouth and suck the blood away. The coppery taste makes my nose wrinkle, but I ignore it. “Hah! Who’s not looking now?” Race mocks me. I roll my eyes at him. “I’m going to go wash it. I’ll be right back.” I push my chair out from the table and walk to the washroom.

The bathroom is quite unsanitary. The only light comes from a dusty window, with one of the panes broken. The floor is grimy, the toilets haven’t been cleaned. All in all, it’s rather disgusting. I turn on the faucet and brown water comes streaming out. I give it a moment to clear before putting my finger underneath. Once I’m sure that I’ve washed all the blood away, I switch the water off and leave the bathroom.

“Hello again.” I nearly jump out of my own skin. The guard and his cronies are standing there, blocking my way out. My back is up against the wall. “Please, just let me get back to work.” I force confidence into my voice even though I couldn’t be more scared. “Why so eager to get away?” he crosses his arms and comes even closer. I can feel my heart beating too fast. I’m panicking, but if I panic, I can’t think straight. I have to keep calm.

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I’m James.” he waits for me to introduce myself but I stay silent. “Don’t be scared. I’m not gonna hurt you.” he smiles at me and my stomach turns. There is no friendliness in his words. “I don’t want to cause any trouble. Let me get back to my work.” Usually I would be able to put up a good fight, but the fact that I’ve barely had anything to eat in the last three days means I won’t be able to get more than a few punches in.

“Y’know, you could get a much better job in here. You just have to do me a favor.” he leans in closer. “I’m not doing you any favors. Now back off.” James just chuckles, causing his cronies to chuckle too. They’re like a pack of Hyenas, and I’m the prey. “I tried to ask nicely.” 

Before I know what’s happening, his hands are pinning me to the wall. I can’t breathe, I can’t think. It’s all too fast. I don’t want this, don’t want his hands on me. I know what he wants, what he’s going to do. I hear myself telling him to stop, but it’s just a faint echo. It’s like I’m watching through someone else’s eyes. His hands move down my shirt, buttons popping, too fast, too much, stop-

“GET AWAY FROM HER.” The hands stop moving. They release me. I feel myself start to breathe again. I open my eyes, and I see Race standing there. His face is a mask of anger. His eyes are full of fire. His fists are clenched and he’s ready for a fight. “This ain’t none of your business, boy. I suggest you leave us be.” James growls. 

“This is my business. That’s my friend you’re trying to hurt. So get the fuck away from her before I punch your lights out.” Race’s voice is serious. He’s not joking around. James stalks towards Race. “This is your last shot. Leave.” James waits for Race to run off, but he doesn’t. James cocks his head. He reaches into the side of his jacket and pulls out a small knife. He holds it loosely in his hands.

“We all get one of these when we start working here. To threaten those of you who misbehave. I haven’t had to use it yet, but you seem like a good person to test it out on.” He holds the knife to Race’s throat.. I feel my heart leap into my chest. Race doesn’t cower. He stares straight at James, his hands at his side. There is no evidence of any fear in his eyes. 

James pushes the knife a little harder, drawing a line of blood. His cronies watch with amusement. “Race. Go. It’s ok. Don’t hurt him, alright?” I spit out. Both of them look at me. Race can’t take all three of these guys. I know what they want from me. But I can’t let Race die protecting me. 

“Or I could kill him and take what I want anyway.” he draws the knife back. 

Time slows. I lunge forward. I grab Jame’s hand and pull it back, away from Race. Then pain. So much pain. It feels like fire is running through my veins, red hot and burning. Then I’m falling 

Falling

Falling

Falling

Black.


	30. Chapter 29

TW: Blood, violence

RACE’S POV:

“ALEX!” She falls to the ground with a thump. I race over to her and slide down next to her. “No, no, no. Alex, wake up.” her eyes flutter open for a moment before falling closed. Her side is red with blood, the pool slowly expanding. Her clothing is soaked with red, the brown fabric turning to black. I take off my vest and push it against the wound, remembering what Davey taught me about first aid. 

“You tell anyone anything, and I’ll make sure I hit the right person next time.” he drops the knife and runs off with his cronies. He wants to avoid any blame. If I wasn’t here, they could say it was an act of self defense. But there was a witness. Me. 

“Race?” her voice is weak but there. “Alex, it’s going to be okay. I need to get you to the bed, alright?” I hook my arms under hers and pull her up. She groans in pain and her eyes close again. “C’mon, it’s just a few feet. I got you.” I toss her arm over my shoulder. All her weight is resting on me, and my muscles shake. Usually I could support her but I’m weak from hunger.

I slowly make my way to our bunk. The room is empty, everyone else working. I lay her down on the bed and she yelps. “I need to see where you got injured. I need to take off your vest.” I unbutton it and pull it off her arms. I don’t want to hurt her more by lifting her up so I allow her to lay on it. Her shirt is covered in blood, the fabric stuck to her skin. I unbutton the last six buttons on her shirt, stopping just before her chest.

I fight a gasp when I see the wound. It’s a jagged cut. Blood is still welling out of the wound, staining the nearby skin red. “I’m going to get Peter, we’ll need some extra help. I’ll be right back.” before I can get up she grabs my arm. “No. Please don’t leave me.” her eyes are wide with fear. “I have to go get Peter. I won’t be gone for long.” I gently peel her fingers off of me. I don’t want to leave her, but I’m going to need someone to help me with this.

I rush back to the main room downstairs. Luckily, the guards are nowhere to be seen. I search the room for Peter, and I finally see him a few tables away. I run over, dodging between benches and people. “Peter!” I grab his shoulder and he whirls around. “Race, get back to your spot or you’ll get in trouble,” he whispers. “I need your help. Please.” Peter is about to complain, but he sees the blood on my hands. His eyes widen. 

When he sees Alex, he backs up a bit. “What happened?” he asks. “The guards wanted to do something bad and when I intervened she ended up getting hurt. Can you go grab me some water to clean it?” Peter is frozen in place, slightly shaking. I can see why this would scare the kid. Alex is white as a sheet and there’s blood on the sheets. “Peter. I need you to do this for Alex. Go get some water.” he snaps out of his shock and runs off to the bathroom.

I put pressure on the wound again. It doesn’t seem to do much, and soon my vest is soaked through. Peter comes running back with a small bowl of water. “Thanks, Peter.” I take a piece of my vest and dip it in the water. It’s not super clean, but it’s the cleanest thing we have. I dip it into the water and gently brush it over Alex’s cut. She hisses in pain but barely stirs. 

Once most of the blood is gone, I can clearly see the injury. It’s deep. I’m not sure that it should be stitched. Plus, if I try to stitch it up, it’ll cause her more pain. “We need a bandage or something.” I mutter. “Here!” Peter hands me a strip of fabric that he was using as a belt. “This is going to hurt, Alex.” I sit her up and she moans. Peter supports her back as I wind the bandage around her stomach. I pull it taut and tie it off. It seems to staunch the blood well enough, but it won’t last for long. 

“We need to get her out of here, to a doctor or something.” Peter shakes his head no. “There ain’t no way of getting out of here. You need someone from the outside to help.” 

“We got people on the outside. I bet they’ll be here any day. We’ll be getting out.” I hope I’m right. I’m not sure how much longer Alex can go without help.


	31. Chapter 30

ALEX’S POV:

It feels like someone poked me with a hot iron. I can barely focus on anything but the pain. “Race?” My voice is dry and I barely recognize it. “Hey, Alex. You’re awake. You want some water?” I nod weakly. He holds a bowl to my lips and I drink the water inside. It burns my throat at first, but then the cool starts to soothe it. I force myself to sit up. I bite my lip in pain, drawing blood. “How do you feel?” Race asks.

“Considering I got stabbed, not great.” I give him a weak smile. “You’ve been sleeping for two days.” he tells me. My eyes widen. “Two days?” as if on cue, my stomach rumbles. “Two days. You needed the sleep. You hungry?” he pulls a roll of bread out of his pocket. I take it and scarf it down. Race watches me as I eat, a concerned look on his face. It hurts to swallow, but the hunger outweighs the pain. 

“What's with the expression? I ain’t dead yet, Higgins.” he doesn’t laugh at my joke. “You almost died. I wasn’t sure you would make it through the night. If it wasn’t for Peter, I don’t know if you would have made it at all.” I notice the dark circles under his eyes. He looks exhausted. “Race, you look like you haven’t had any rest. When was the last time you slept?” Race shrugs his shoulders. “Race, get some sleep.” He tries to refuse but eventually he caves. He lays down on the bed next to me and places his hat over his face. He falls asleep within minutes.

An hour or so later, the kids file in from work. The day must be over. “Alex!” You’re awake!” Peter comes rushing over, a big smile on his face. “Hi, Peter. Race told me that you were an excellent doctor for me.” He nods proudly. “Oh! I made you this!” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small square of paper.

The paper is crumpled, and it looks like he must have stolen it from somewhere. He hands it to me and I unfold it. Inside is a drawing of a horse, titled ‘Horse’. “This is beautiful, Peter!” he grins at my praise. “Every artist has to sign their work. I’m going to need you to sign this so I have proof that I knew you before you were famous.” 

He pulls out a pencil. It’s little more than a nub but it works well enough. He scrawls his name on the corner of the paper. His handwriting is un-practiced and messy, but his name is clear enough. “P-E-T-E-R. Race taught me how to spell it.” I look at Race, who is still fast asleep. He says he hates kids, but everyone knows he secretly loves ‘em.

“Hey! Race! Look at what I drew!” Peter shakes Race awake. He sits up and wipes the spit from the side of his mouth. I stifle a giggle. “What did I miss?” he asks. “Look! I drew a horse!” I hand him the paper. “That’s a good drawing, Peter.” he admires it for a moment before handing it back to me. 

“Did Race tell you about finding the window?” Peter asks. I look at Race in confusion. “Window?”

“I found a possible exit. I was peeking around the fire escape, seeing if I could find a way out. Right above the fire escape there’s a window, but it’s too small for either of us to fit through.” he sighs dejectedly. I think for a second. 

“It’s too small for us, but I bet Peter could fit through.” the two of us look at Peter. He just stares back questioningly. “Peter. Do you think you could fit through the window I showed you?” I ask. Peter nods his head yes. “Peter, we can get you out of here!” I say excitedly. “What?” Peter is just as surprised, but I see the hope in his eyes. “I think I have a plan.” Peter sits on the bed next to Race as he listens.

As Race explains his plan, I write a quick note on the back of the horse drawing. I hesitate a moment. Then I unclip my necklace, the one Jack gave me. I put it in the paper, folding the letter over. 

“Race, why don’t you go see if you can scrounge up some extra food for Peter?” I suggest. Race nods and walks off. I don’t think he’ll be able to find anything, but I needed to get Peter alone. 

“I need you to do me a favor, Peter.” I hand him the letter with the necklace inside. “I need you to find Jack Kelly. He lives in the newsboy house by the La Guerra church. Do you think you can get there?” Peter says yes. “It’s important that you get this to him and tell him where we are. Tell him Race and I sent you. He’ll help you out, okay?” Peter nods. 

I bite my lip. “Peter, you are a brave boy. Thank you.” I grab his hand and squeeze it once. This boy has more spunk than I ever had at his age. He holds my heart in his hands with that letter. And, to be honest, I wouldn’t trust anyone else to deliver it.


	32. Chapter 31

JACK’S POV:

“Jack, you need to eat something. You won’t be much help if you pass out.” Katharine pushes a plate with a PB&J toward me. I shake my head and push it back. “That wasn’t a question. Eat.” she shoves the plate forward again, more forcefully this time. I roll my eyes but I take a bite. “You can be so stubborn sometimes.” she mumbles. “Spot, you too.” she passes him a separate plate. “I ain’t hungry.” Katharine glares at him. “Spot. I will force feed you if you don’t eat this.” Spot takes the plate and takes an angry bite. 

“Hello? Is anyone there?” a fist pounds on the door. I sigh and get up, walking to the door. I open it and don’t see anyone there. “Down here.” I look down and I see a small boy. He looks like he hasn’t showered in at least a year. “If you want money, I don’t have any-” he interrupts me with a wave of his hand. “My name’s Peter. Alex and Race sent me!” he gives me a big smile, a tooth missing on the left side. “Alex and Race?” I repeat. He nods his head yes.

“C’mon in.” I usher him inside and lead him to the main room. “Who’s this?” Katharine asks, kneeling down. “This is Peter. He says that Alex and Race sent him.” Spot and Katharine freeze, looking at me. “What do you mean they sent you?” Spot asks. He gets up and walks towards Peter, who shrinks back. I put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. “It’s okay, Peter. You're not in trouble. We just want to know where our friends are.” I explain.

“They’re in the workhouse. They were in the bunk below me.” I wait for Peter to say more, but he doesn’t. “How’d you get here?” Katharine asks. “Race helped me out a window, and I ran here. They told me to look for the La Guerra church, and to find Jack.” My heart starts beating faster. “I’m Jack.” I say hurriedly. Katharine nods her head to confirm. “I’ve been looking for you all day! I have a letter for you from Alex.” 

Peter reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper. I take it and hold it in my hand. I’ll read it once we get some more information from Peter. “Do you know where you came from, so we can go back and get Alex and Race?” Spot questions. “I don’t know. But we’re across from a stable, that’s why I drew the horse.” he points to the paper, and I see a drawing of a horse on the back. “Spot, you go call Davey and Alex’s parents. Get the boys over here, we’re going to need all the help we can get. Katharine, can you get Peter something to eat?” the poor kid is starved, I can basically see his ribs. 

“Let’s get you some food and then a bath, alright? I bet Les will let you borrow some of his clothes, you two are about the same age.” Katharine leads Peter off to the kitchen and Spot goes to the telephone. I creep out the window and climb up to the roof to read the letter that Peter gave me. I don’t want anyone else to read it just yet. I slowly unfold it, and her necklace falls out. I catch it in my hands just before it hits the ground. Alex never takes this off.Why would she do that now? My mind reels with worse case scenarios. What if she’s dead, or hurt, or- I just need to see what she wrote. That’ll answer all my questions. She probably just gave me the necklace for safe keeping, right? I hurriedly start to read the letter, my eyes skimming over the hastily written words.

Dear Jack,

I know Peter has found you by now. And I also know that you and the boys will be running in to come save us. Race will be waiting by the door to the fire escape, it’s locked from the outside. You’ll need to pick the lock. Jack, I want to come home. But I can’t. Race doesn’t know yet, but I’m not coming with him. I don’t think I’ll be able to. Jack, I love you with all my heart, I really do. I want you to remember that. I know you don’t want to read this in a letter, and I wish I was telling you myself. But this is the only way I can tell you. I’m hurt Jack, and badly. I don’t think I’m going to be around much longer. Never thought I’d go like this, but I guess you can’t choose, huh? Sorry, not the time for sarcasm.

I’m going to try and hold on, but I can feel myself fading. Race doesn’t know about that either. He thinks I’m a-okay, that I’ll be up and running. You tell him that it wasn’t his fault. Don’t let him blame himself. And Peter, tell him thank you. Let him know that he did good. Give him a warm bed at least. The kid deserves something nice for once. And the boys. Tell them I love them, alright? Give them a hug for me.

Promise me that you’ll watch over my parents. Make sure they’re okay, tell them I love them too. I want to write so much more. There’s so much I want to say, but I don’t have the room. Let me just say this: I love you Jack Kelly. More than I’ve ever loved anyone else. You’ve stood by my side through thick and thin, and that means more than you can ever know. You loved me, flaws and all. You are an amazing man. Don’t blame yourself for any of this. Don’t you dare do that. You keep on living. Promise me that you’ll do that.

Love,

Alex


	33. Chapter 32

TW: Blood

RACE’S POV:

I’ve been waiting by this door for hours. I asked Alex to come with me, but she said she was too tired to move. She’s looking pretty pale, and she’s been asleep a lot. I’m worried about her. I’ve been changing the bandage on her cut, and it looks like it’s still bleeding. She needs medical help, but I can’t give that to her. I can’t even get enough food for us. I had to trade my cigar for an extra roll of bread. I’ve been fidgeting non-stop without it.

“Race! Race!” a whispered voice shouts. I stand up and look out the window. Jack, Davey, and Spot are standing on the fire escape. “Guys!” I see Jack picking the lock, jiggling the handle. It doesn’t seem to be working. “Race, stand back!” Jack moves back and then runs into the door, busting it open. Splinters scatter on the floor and all the kids look up from their bunks. The boys rush in and I run to Spot. I wrap him in a hug, and he holds me. 

We pull away and he gently places a hand on my face. “Are you okay?” I nod my head yes. “Where’s Alex?” Jack asks. I point to our bunk and he sprints over. “We don’t have long, Katharine is distracting the woman at the door. Let’s get you out of here.” Spot pulls me away but I resist. “We need to get these kids out of here.” I start gesturing for the kids to get up and leave. Some of them shake their heads no, but others take the chance and leave.

“C’mon Alex, let’s go.” Jack tries to lift Alex, but she just yelps. He lays her back down and looks at me worriedly. “Jack, no time. Get Race and go.” I can barely hear her voice. It’s little more than a wisp of air. “No. Alex, I’m going to lift you up. Hold tight.” he lifts her up bridal style and she screams in pain. “Jack, we have to go!” Elmer shouts. “Jack, please I can’t-” Alex’s eyes are closed in pain and her chest is heaving. 

I don’t want to hurt her more, but we need to get her out of here. “I’m sorry Alex. Just hold on for a bit.” Jack carries her towards the door. We join the kids leaving and rush down the stairs of the fire escape. Alex has gone silent except for a few groans every now and then when she gets jostled too much. “We have to get back to the car.” Davey orders. “Car?” davey nods. “Katharine’s. She drove us here.” 

There's not enough time to explain further. We rush away from the workhouse, checking to make sure no one saw us. We make it to the car where Katharine is waiting for us. “Get her in the back.” we do as she says. Davey takes the passenger seat next to Katharine while the rest of us squish into the back. Jack holds Alex in his lap, his eyes full of fear. “She’s going to be okay. We have her.” I do my best to reassure him, but I don’t think he even hears me. 

Katharine breaks every speed limit, almost running several people over. “Is she still breathing?” she calls out. “Yeah, But it’s shallow.” I reply. Alex wasn’t doing well before, and with all this moving she’s doing worse. I can see the blood seeping through her bandages and staining her shirt even more. “Keep pressure on the wound!” Jack does as Davey says, putting his hand over the wound. “We’re almost there.” Katharine shouts. 

When she jerks the car to a stop in front of the lodging house, all of us clamber out. I hold the door open for all of them as they rush inside, climbing up the stairs. All the boys are in the bunk room, and they stand up when they see us come in. “Race! Alex!” Albert comes over and wraps me in a hug. “Move out of the way!” Jack yells. They scatter, watching anxiously as Jack lays Alex down on one of the beds. “Everybody out! Elmer, get the first aid kit. Albert, get the bottle of whiskey under your bed. Yes, I know about it. The rest of you, go wait in the living room. No matter what you hear, I need you to stay put. Understood?” Davey orders. the boys nod and rush out. 

“Race, you too. You don’t need to see this.” I shake my head no. “I ain’t going anywhere.” Spot tugs my arm. “Race. You need some care too. Let’s get you some food, alright?” I want to fight with him, but I don’t have the energy. I let him lead me out. The boys pass me as they give Davey what he needs. All of us gather in the main room.

No one talks. Complete silence. Then the screaming starts.


	34. Chapter 33

TW: Blood

JACK’S POV:

“Katharine, can you unbutton her shirt?” Davey asks. Katharine nods and does her job, taking off Alex’s shirt. I see the blood soaked bandage and my stomach turns. Davey unties the bandage and pulls it off, and then I see the full injury. All of us gasp in some way. “We need to clean and stitch this now.” Davey grabs the first aid kit and pulls out some bandages, a needle, and some thread. “Jack. This is going to hurt her. I need you to hold her hand and keep her calm. If she moves too much, she could hurt herself more.” I take a seat next to the bed and grab Alex’s hand, squeezing it once to let her know I’m there.

Davey uncaps the whiskey and puts the bottle to Alex’s mouth. “This will help numb the pain a bit.” Alex weakly swallows, coughing a bit. “Okay. This is going to sting.” Davey tips the bottle, pouring the alcohol over the gash. Alex jerks up and screams, tears welling in her eyes. “Shh, I’m right here sweetheart. You’re okay.” I gently stroke her hair with my free hand. She calms down a bit, but her chest heaves with sobs. 

“I’m going to try and be as fast as I can, but this is going to hurt her.” Davey threads the needle. I turn my head away so I don’t have to see him sew the cut closed. Alex shrieks, trying to move away from the needle. “Hold her still!” Davey orders. I do my best, putting my free hand on her shoulder. “It’s going to be over soon, I promise. Just hold on.” I squeeze her hand again, and she grips it tight. 

A minute or so later, Davey finishes and ties it off. Katharine hands him a bandage and he ties it on. He pulls the covers up over her. “Katharine, can you telephone her parents? Tell them what happened, ask for a change of clothes?” Katharine nods and leaves the room. I wipe the tears off of Alex’s cheeks with my thumb. 

“I should have protected her.” I feel a tear run down my cheek. The woman I love is laying here hurt and close to death. I should have gotten her out sooner, I should have gone back for her. “Jack. This isn’t your fault. Stop blaming yourself. Alex wouldn’t want you to do that.” I know he’s right but I can’t stop my thoughts. “I started the fight. If I hadn't, she and Race would never have ended up there in the first place.

“Jack. Stop. Your mind is tricking you. You didn’t do anything wrong. Bad things happen to good people, and there’s nothing you can do about it. If you carry all this on your shoulders, it will crush you. Let go of all of that blame. It won’t do any good. Let’s let Alex get some rest, and maybe Race can explain what happened.” 

I nod and stand up, releasing Alex’s hand. I kiss her forehead before leaving. She looks so weak and pale, nothing like the girl I know or the girl I drew. Those shining eyes are closed and her smile is nowhere to be found. The woman in front of me is a stranger, a shell of a person I once knew. I know that the real Alex is in there. We just need to find her.


	35. Chapter 34

TW: PTSD, recollections of violence

JACK’S POV:

All of us are in the main room. No one speaks. “Is she okay?” Finch asks. His voice breaks a bit. “She’s going to be okay. She just needs rest.” Finch sighs in relief. Race is sitting next to Spot, his head in his hands. Spot is whispering something to him, I can’t hear what. 

“Race. What happened in there?” I demand. “Not right now, Jack. Let him have some time.” Spot glares at me. “No. It-it’s fine. He deserves to know.” Race stands up and everyone turns to look at him. Spot tells him he doesn’t have to share, but Race insists. 

“We got sent to the workhouse. You saw it, you don’t need me to tell you how bad it was. Peter was on the bunk above us, he helped us out. There wasn’t much food. We were hungry. I had to trade my cigar for some food just before you came.” he takes a deep breath before continuing. “We tried to keep the guards from finding out she was a girl. It worked for a few days, but they found out. They told me that if we wanted food, I could give them an hour with Alex for a meal.”

I feel my fists tightening. If they even touched her, I swear to God, I will hunt them down. “Then they managed to corner her. They were going to-” he can’t finish the sentence. “I stopped them before they could. But they started to threaten me with a knife. Put it against my neck. Thought they were going to kill me. But then Alex jumped and pulled the knife away, and then-” he sniffs back some tears. “Then she got stabbed. The guards ran off. I did my best to take care of her. I really did.”

Race crumples to the floor as tears run down his face. His frail form shakes with sobs as the reality of what has happened hit him. Spot sinks to the floor next to him and rubs his back. As I look around the room, I see tears in everyone’s eyes. Faces are slack and eyes are haunted with the terrible images. I can feel anger consume me. I slam my fist into the brick wall, drawing blood. I don’t feel the pain. “Jack, stop!” Crutchie pulls my hand back, keeping me from punching the wall again. 

“Those bastards, they- they hurt her. I’m going to kill them.” I growl. “I’ll come with you.” Finch hisses. The other boys voice their agreement. I can feel the fury of the room, almost as if it was a physical fog. One of our own has been hurt. We don’t stand for that, never have and never will. We fight back, we bleed for our family.

“I want to see them suffer.” Crutchie looks at me with understanding. He feels just as angry as the rest of us, but he doesn’t show it the same. “She’s laying in the next room, barely breathing! For God’s sake, they tried to use her! They would have if Race hadn’t intervened. I wasn’t there, I couldn’t save her. I had her blood on my hands, I can still hear her screams.” Each word is laced with venom. I throw them like knives, though I have no target.

“Revenge doesn’t help. It feels good for a moment, but it won’t fix anything. I’m not telling you to forgive, but I’m telling you to let the anger go. It will only hurt you more.” he turns to face the rest of the boys. “This goes for all of you. Don’t think I can’t see the bloodthirst in each of your eyes. I’m just as pissed as the rest of you. But we can’t change what has happened, we can only work on helping them recover. Focus on that.” The room considers his words. Nobody wants to speak.

“As long as we’ve got each other, we’ll all get through this. It’s the one thing I can be sure of.” Davey speaks. “You sound like a corny poster.” Specs chuckles. The room rings with soft laughter. We may not be blood, but we’re a family. All these boys are my brothers. They see Alex and Katharine like sisters. We support each other, and as long as we have that, we’ll be okay. We’ve been through shit, and we always come out on the other side. We just have to keep pushing forward, and soon enough we’ll have survived this too.


	36. Chapter 35

TW: PTSD, flashbacks

ALEX’S POV:

Everything is blurry. I blink a few times to clear my eyes. I’m- where the hell am I? “Davey! Davey, she’s awake!” a voice whispers. I turn my head to the right. “Jack?” my eyes widen. I must be hallucinating or something. “Hey, sweetheart. It’s me.” I try to sit up but pain spikes through my stomach. “Try not to move too much, you might rip your stitches.” Davey leans over me, helping me to sit up. “Where am I?” I can’t remember what happened the last day or so, and as far as I know, Jack and Davey weren’t here before.

“You’re back at the lodging house. Race is here too. We got you guys out.” As Jack explains, a few memories come back to me. They feel more like dreams, but I can remember some details. Jack picking me up, being in the car, the blinding pain of the stitches. “Is Race okay?” Jack assures me he is and I calm down a little. “I feel like someone burned me with a hot poker.” I mumble. Jack smiles a little at my grumbling.

“You hungry?” he asks. “Starving, actually.” Davey leaves the room to go grab some food, leaving Jack and I alone. “You had me terrified, you know that?” Jack’s voice is soft. He tries to say it as a joke, but I can sense the sadness underneath. “I’m sorry, Jack. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” Jack bites his lip for a moment before speaking. “I think this belongs to you.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out my necklace. My eyes water as he holds it out. I take it and fasten the clasp around my neck. I feel a bit more right with it back on.

“I missed ya, Jack.” I grab his hand, holding it tight. I’ve memorized each callus and scar, and to feel them again is a strange comfort. “Do my parents know that I’m alright?” They must be worried sick. “Yeah. We phoned ‘em last night. They brought over some clothes and whatnot. They said to give ‘em a call when you wake up.” I breathe a sigh of relief. At least they know that I’m alive and safe.

Davey comes back into the room with a steaming bowl of soup. “Fresh outta the can.” he hands it to me. The bowl warms my hands as the steam swirls into the air. I take a spoonful and blow on it to cool it. After that first bite, I gobble it down like crazy. I don’t know if anything has ever tasted this good. “You want another bowl?” Davey asks. I shake my head no. I already feel so full, just from this one serving.

“Doctor Davey, ya think I can take a shower?” Davey considers for a moment. “I don’t see why not. But get Katharine to help you. Don’t want you re-opening your cut.” I roll my eyes at him, but he just ignores it. “Kath! Get in here, will ya?” Jack shouts. Katharine walks in, a smile on her face. “Hey, Alex.” I give her a small wave. “I would get up and hug ya, but I don’t want to get blood on your dress.” 

“Can you help Alex with the shower? Keep her from doing any fast movements.” Katharine says yes, helping me up. I feel a sharp pain and almost fall back down, but Jack catches me. The two of them help me to the bathroom. Once inside, Jack closes the door behind him as he leaves. 

“The boys are anxious to see you. Soon as Davey came out, they tried to rush in.” I smile at that. “Let’s get this shirt off, and then I have to take off the bandage.” I notice that I’m wearing one of Jack’s button downs. It’s one of his favorites. “I can unbutton it, I’m not helpless.” Katharine insists that I let her do it, saying any strain is too much strain. She starts from the top button. I’m fine for the first few, but once she reaches the fifth button I start to panic.

The memories come flooding back. Hands, don’t want these hands, stop, please, stop-


	37. Chapter 36

TW: PTSD, panic attack

JACK’S POV:

I hear pleading come from the bathroom. Alex’s voice. I run over, busting through the door. Alex is pressed against the wall, shaking. Katharine is wringing her hands, trying to figure out what to do. “I- I was unbuttoning her shirt, and she started to freak out, I don’t know what to do!” I put a hand on Katharine’s shoulder, a silent gesture that she’s not at fault. I slowly walk up to Alex, and she shrinks away. I put my hands up to show that I mean no harm.

“Please. Don’t.” her voice is quiet, shivering just as much as her body. “Alex, it’s just me. It’s Jack. I’m not going to hurt you.” I keep my voice soft, taking one step closer. “You're safe. I promise. I’m right here.” the shaking starts to recede. “I- I could feel their hands, and I heard their voices, I was back there-” I gently place a hand on her shoulder. “I’m going to hug you, alright? Tell me if you want me to stop.” I pull her in and wrap my arms around her. Her head rests against my chest. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop it, the memories wouldn’t go away.” 

“It’s not your fault. You’re safe now, they can’t get you. Take a breath.” I hold her in silence for a few minutes until she stops shaking. I lightly kiss her head, rubbing her back. She pulls away, catching her breath. Katharine is still standing in the corner, watching with concern. “I’m okay. Sorry about all that.” Katharine offers a soft smile. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you're okay.” 

“You still want to take a shower?” Katharine asks. Alex nods, her determination returning. “I’ll be right outside, alright? Call me if you need me.” I leave the room, closing the door behind me. I sit right outside the door, not moving an inch further. 

When I saw that spark of determination in Alex’s eyes, I knew that she was still there. She wasn’t giving up yet. It gives me hope that she’s going to be okay.

ALEX’S POV:

“You ready?” I nod my head yes. Katharine unbuttons the last few buttons. Then she helps me get out of the rest of my clothes, pausing to make sure I’m ready each time. She helps me into the shower and turns on the hot water. 

I can feel the workhouse washing off me with every passing second. The water turns brown and slowly clears. Katharine rubs the shampoo into my hair. I tilt my head back to rinse out all the soap. I feel clean for the first time in a while. The water can’t erase the memories, but it can erase the grit and dirt, make me feel more like myself. 

Once I’m clean, the water is switched off. Katharine hands me a towel and allows me to dry myself off. I climb out of the tub, leaving wet footprints behind me. As I dry off, I look at my injury. The cut is healing, the blood dried. It’s going to leave a scar, one that I don’t want. But I can’t do anything about it. I’ll just have to learn to love it. Katharine bandages me up, covering the cut. I can still feel it, but at least I can’t see it.

I pull on the clothes my parents gave me. They smell like home, and I revel in the scent. I never thought I would ever miss home this much. Katharine helps me to brush my hair out. The bristles get stuck in the many knots, but little by little we get them all out. When I look into the mirror this time, I see myself. Yes, I’m a little thinner and tired, but it’s still me staring back. That’s a bigger reassurance than anything else.

“Thank you, Katharine.” 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s the least I could do.” she places a hand on my shoulder, her reflection smiling at me. “Let’s go see those boys, Kath.”


	38. Chapter 37

JACK’S POV:

As soon as Alex comes out, the boys flock over to her. They’re all asking if she’s okay, asking how she is. They see her like an older sister, so of course they were worried. She brushes them off, insisting that she’s fine. She takes a seat on a chair, grimacing a bit. The boys stare at her, not saying anything. We’re all afraid that if we do something wrong, she’ll shatter like a glass figurine. Shards of her that we can’t quite put back together, and even if we do, she’ll be cracked and imperfect.

“You guys are never this quiet.” Alex chuckles. Her smile breaks the ice, giving us a feeling of normalcy. “So, have you guys been treating Peter good?” she asks. “Yup. He and Les got off like a shot. Those two have basically been inseparable.” Finch explains. “And Peter’s been staying with the Brooklyn newsies. He’s already selling papes like crazy! That gap toothed smile is a crowd pleaser,” Jojo adds. 

“Davey says he and I are like siamese twins, whatever that means.” We all laugh at Les’s statement. “Oh! Alex, while you were gone, Davey tried to teach me to sew!” Ike shows Alex the sloppily mended hole in his vest. “It’s not great, but it’s a start,” Ike continues. The boys share stories of what she and Race missed. She listens to each one, the sparkle never fading from her eyes. She seems so alive, so herself.

I can tell there’s more going on in her head than I can see. Behind those bright eyes is a whirlwind of memories and thoughts. She’s not gonna be herself right away, I know that. I know what places like that can do to you. They leave scars, and not just physically. 

The thing is, over time, you stop seeing those scars as ugly. You wear them like a badge of honor. They show just how strong you are, what you’ve survived. Scars tell stories, both good and bad. They become a part of you. It takes time of course. You don’t heal overnight. But eventually you learn to love those scars. And while Alex learns to love those scars, I’ll be by her side. She ain’t going through this alone. She’s got all of us to support her.

We’re here for the laughter and the tears, the nightmares and the dreams, the joy and the sadness, the love and the hate. Family don’t turn it’s back on one another. So no matter what comes are way, we’ll get through it. I know we will.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I’m working on a sequel right now, so keep an ear out for that if you liked this. Hope you enjoyed!


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